


Awake All Day

by Caelestria



Category: GOT7
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Dream Sequence, Drunk Sex, Hand Jobs, Jealousy, M/M, Rimming, Smut, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-11-02 08:35:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 55,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10940844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caelestria/pseuds/Caelestria
Summary: When Mark drinks too much, he can never remember what happened the night before.





	1. awake (the morning after)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'll be honest. I was motivated to write a fic by this doujinshi over an anime that I had never watched. It's called Awake by Yinghua (sinba). I used the premise and did my own Markson/Got7 thing so here goes :)

Mark wasn’t an irrational drunk. He didn’t make stupid decisions, and he certainly did not end up in situations that could potentially ruin his entire career. So when he woke up in his bed to the press of a hot body against his back, he was mortified. 

Mark quickly sat up, pulling the blankets over his naked and exposed body, and thus revealing the broad expanse of Jackson’s uncovered skin as he shifted the fabric. He let the sheets fall with a strangled gasp. 

Why was he in bed with Jackson? Why were they both naked?!

Mark thought back to last night. After their promotions had ended, the group celebrated with a lot of noise and a lot of alcohol. With the stress of camping in the jungle and performing under hot lights over and done with, Mark partook in the festivities, which was damn unusual for him.

But what exactly happened that night? He could remember Bambam passed out against Yugyeom when his tolerance was breached. He could remember Youngjae laughing loudly, heart eyes and all, while Jaebum danced like an infatuated fool. He could remember staring at the way Jackson was wrapped up around Jinyoung, and he could very clearly recall the way Jackson grabbed Jinyoung’s ass as he stood to leave, saying that he was going to retire early.

After that, his memory was simply missing. It was as if there was a massive black censor bar over the events of last night, and no matter how hard he tried to peek, he was still dubbed under 18 and restricted. 

The nude body before him turned over, opening two big eyes to stare at Mark sleepily.

“Oh… you’re already awake?”

“J-Jackson!” Mark exclaimed before wincing at the pain of a headache shooting behind his eyes. He waited for it to pass before opening his eyes again. The sun seemed ten times brighter this time around.

Jackson drew near, and Mark was flustered by the sheer amount of skin he was seeing in this highly suggestive context. He froze as Jackson grabbed him by the chin and kissed his cheek.

“Good morning, Mark,” Jackson said, pulling back beaming. “Did you have fun last night?”

Mark could only clutch his cheek in shock before scrambling away with some half-assed excuse about suddenly needing to pee.

 

Mark sat across from Jinyoung with a cup of coffee clasped between two hands, rocking back and forth as if that would help him process the situation any better. He was fully showered and dressed now. In the bathroom, he hadn’t found any strange marks on his skin or, god forbid, cum up his ass. He was, however, sore in some rather strange places, but that could have easily been from his attempt to do parkour in their cramped living room since he clearly lives in the wrong decade. 

“So what are you telling me?” Jinyoung bookmarked the novel he was reading with his finger as he sat back to listen to Mark’s recounting. 

“I don’t know! That’s the problem! I can’t remember what happened last night. I just woke up and we were…you know.” Mark flailed his arms as if he were scribbling a picture of the scene. 

“Well, congrats on finally graduating from your virginity,” Jinyoung responded dryly, opening his book back up.

Mark slapped his arm, ruffled. “You’re too loud!” he hissed, not denying the fact. “And I’m not even sure that’s what happened.”

“But you were naked, in the same bed, post-party,” Jinyoung deadpanned, taking a pause between each phrase. “There’s not much room for debate there.”

“Y-yeah, but—.”

“So you and Jackson Wang fucked, huh? Well this is certainly news. Not _surprising_ news per se, but a development all the same.”

“Jinyoung-ie… You don’t have to be so blunt about it.” Mark crossed his arms defensively. “And why isn’t this surprising?”

“Because I’ve seen the way you look at him. Sooner or later it was bound to happen.”

Mark blushed, ears turning bright red. Jinyoung looked up from his book to witness this with a feline smirk playing on his lips.

“So,” he continued, “did you play pitcher or catcher?” 

Mark threw Jinyoung a disgusted glare. “Why these baseball references?”

“I’ve been pent up since Jaebum wouldn’t let me contribute to Home Run.”

“It’s been over a year…”

“I hold grudges,” he shrugged. 

“Okay, but I’m not that surprised that he vetoed putting your gay sex references in our—.”

Mark froze when Jinyoung reached out to stroke his knee, mood instantly shifting from playful to serious. “Mark-hyung… Are you sure you can’t remember _anything_?” he pressed.

Mark shook his head, frowning. “I really wish I did. Even back in America, I’d blackout if I drank too much. My friends would always make fun of me for doing things I didn’t even know I did.”

Jinyoung sighed. “Well, instead of talking to me about it, isn’t there someone else that you should be asking? Depending on the circumstances, you have might to take responsibility.”

“Responsibility for what?”

“I mean, don’t you like him?”

Mark jolted out of Jinyoung’s touch. “It’s not like he likes me or anything,” he stammered reflexively.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“No! Of course I don’t like him like that!”

“So dirty, Mark,” Jinyoung teased. “Sleeping with someone you don’t even like.”

“I-it’s not like that! I wouldn’t—,” Mark broke off. “He’s just a friend. I never intended to…I…”

“So that’s a yes,” the younger concluded, proud of himself.

“Fine,” Mark groaned. “But that still doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t like me back.”

_If anything_ , Mark thought to himself, gaze turning up to study how Jinyoung’s focus had returned to his novel, _he likes_ you.

 

The boys were arranged into separate cars on their way to a fansign that evening. The event was in another city so they had a good hour before they arrived. Mark was packed into the back beside Jackson. The two hadn’t talked all day. After Mark exited the bathroom, Jackson had already left to buy lunch with Bambam and help the younger get over his hangover. In the back of his mind, Mark wished he could receive this kind of care.

Mark fidgeted as Jackson settled in beside him. He stared fixedly at his phone, watching a video of a gameplay that he was only half paying attention to. He was instead hyperaware of Jackson’s thick thigh brushing against his own and the warmth that transferred through their clothes. 

_What should I do?_ Mark screamed at himself. He had potentially slept with Jackson. While drunk. Jackson had been by his side for six years and counting. They were best friends. Their connection was solid and completely platonic. Mark had pointedly ignored the way his stomach tumbled and his palms perspired in the other’s presence for the majority of those six years. It was fine. All was good. Everything was normal. 

The car pulled up to the venue without a word being spoken between the two. Mark hated to admit it, but it was awkward now. He ran up ahead to walk with Jinyoung, who gave him a knowing look that Mark promptly disregarded. The seven of them entered the building, escorted by guards who kept away the fans. Mark smiled and waved as if nothing was wrong. But everything was wrong. 

The others began to notice too. Mark sat beside Jaebum and away from Jackson at the table. He was more fidgety than usual and smiled with much less enthusiasm. It became a concern when he made noticeable mistakes in the choreography of their title track, missing beats and doing steps too early. He couldn’t say if it was because he caught the eyebrow wiggles and concealed giggles Jackson and Jinyoung shared when they passed each other. 

Jaebum cast him a look when they sat back down, and Mark wished he had chosen to sit by someone else, but he understood. It was one thing to mess up in the privacy of their dance practice room; it was totally different in front of the fans with their high tech cameras capturing every move. The thought only made Mark sweat more. 

It all came to a boiling point when Jackson attempted to put a Pikachu headband over Mark’s styled hair, and Mark jolted so hard that he fell backwards and bumped into the folding table, making its improperly locked legs collapse. He tumbled to the ground with the sad slab of wood, the tablecloth, their drinks, and the gifts from the fans. 

There was a collective gasp from the fans, but all he could think was how badly he wished he could go back to his room and lock the door behind him. He almost didn’t want to look at the mess of stuffed animals and coffee behind him. He could already feel the liquid seeping into the leg of his pants. 

Jaebum offered Mark a hand to help him stand up. The younger gave him a look that told him that they needed to talk later. Mark nodded curtly, ears red, before waving off the fans’ concern apologetically. He didn’t have a microphone on hand so Jaebum went forward to reassure them that Mark was okay. It was just a faulty table—no one’s fault—but he was still incredibly sorry for the ruined state of the gifts. 

Mark managed to escape the stage, covering the stain on his backside cutely as he followed a manager into the back. She gave him an extra pair of sweatpants and took his soiled pair. He took the extra time in the bathroom to clear his mind while he wiped the brown liquid off of his skin. 

What if nothing had happened last night? Perhaps Mark was worrying so much over nothing the entire time. After all, Jackson was acting exactly the same as usual. He still laughed excitedly, clung to the other members without care of Mark’s feelings, and stared a little too hard at a certain Park Jinyoung. 

If something really had happened last night, he should at least react a little, right? Maybe he would be touchier with him? Or giggle a little more? Wasn’t there something about post-sex euphoria? Yet, Jackson was at the same happiness level as always, a little drowned out by his fatigue, but they’ve all been tired from their busy schedules. 

Mark returned from the bathroom, taking a microphone to say some sweet words to the fans. They laughed and requested aegyo, to which he pouted and squeezed his eyes shut adorably with a squeal. Once Mark felt that he had won them back over, he cautiously leaned on the edge of the table, away from the others. For the rest of the night, he avoided Jackson’s gaze and clung to Jaebum because Jinyoung couldn’t provide the security he needed, not when Jackson’s eyes followed the younger around regardless. With Jaebum, it was easier. There was no need for excessive skin contact; Mark could just laugh into the microphone and occasionally join in with his random dances. 

As they were saying their goodbyes and goodnights, Mark hurried off the stage first, grabbing Jinyoung as he exited the venue. He squeezed into the car with him and their managers and rode back to the dorms with them. He rested his head on Jinyoung’s shoulder, wishing he could be this close to Jackson. 

They arrived back home first, and Mark headed straight for the shower. Jaebum caught him as he was leaving the bathroom. Wearing only a towel tied around his hips, he startled from being caught in so little clothing. His hair was damp, and the water slowly trailing down his neck made the situation all the more ominous. 

“Sorry I messed up the choreography so bad today,” Mark said first.

Jaebum shook his head. “It’s not just the dance… Mark-hyung, what’s wrong?”

Mark bit his lip. 

“You can’t even tell me?”

“I just need to figure it out myself first.”

Jaebum sighed. “Alright. Well, I hope you figure it out fast. We’re leaving on tour soon, and I need you on top of your game.” He gave Mark a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before heading for the bathroom himself.

“Wait, Jaebum-ie?”

He turned around, halfway through the door. “What is it?”

“Do you remember anything weird happening last night?”

“After we drank? No, but I headed back with Youngjae before you and Jackson had finished drinking. I know that.” 

Mark nodded, lips pursed pensively.

Sensing the conversation was over, Jaebum closed the bathroom door behind him. Mark was left alone and still very confused now that his troubled thoughts were in the forefront of his mind again. The pressing question was why they were both naked come morning. That had to at least suggest _something_ , right? Mark had never woken up to Jackson’s completely naked body next to him in bed even back when they roomed together. That just wasn’t something two _friends_ did together. However, the younger’s lack of reaction troubled Mark. Mark bit his lip, eyebrows creasing. Maybe all of this just wasn’t a big deal for him.

As Mark entered his room, he was in for even more of a shock. Jackson sat on his bed, toeing at the carpet with his bare foot, acting guilty as if he were invading Mark’s private space. His hair was wet as well. He was dressed down in clothes that hung off his shoulders a little to perfectly. 

“Are you mad at me?” Jackson asked, looking up as he heard Mark enter the room. His eyes unconsciously flickered down to Mark’s towel before scanning back up his abdomen to meet his eyes. “Did I do something wrong? Because if I did, I’m really sorry.”

“How can you be sorry without even knowing what you did?” Mark asked gently, but he was uncomfortable with how much Jackson was staring at him. He walked to the dresser to find a shirt and some underwear to put on. “Besides, I’m not mad at you.”

“But you’ve been acting off all day, and then you flinched when I tried to touch you earlier at the fanmeet. I thought I did something bad.”

“No, it’s nothing.” 

Mark pulled out a pair of boxers and was about to put them on when he heard Jackson behind him. He could feel his heat radiating against the bare skin of his back. He shivered imperceptibly. This was no good… How could he even bear to look him in the eyes when he was already like this? He was far too self-conscious over a memory he didn’t even possess.

“Hyung?” Jackson asked. “I can tell you’re lying to me. Am I not allowed to touch you anymore?”

Mark felt arms wrap around his waist and couldn’t help but sigh into the embrace. Jackson’s always been fond of physical contact. This wasn’t anything off from the usual, but why was Mark’s heart beating that much faster?

“You are,” Mark responded. “Sorry.”

Jackson took the invitation, pulling close enough that his crotch pressed into Mark’s towel-covered butt. He felt the warmth of Jackson’s chest muscles along the planes of his back. Jackson nuzzled into the crook of his neck and shoulder, breathing into his skin. Mark thought he was going to die and go to heaven.

“Don’t be. Are you at least feeling better now? Did I hug away all your anxieties?”

“I-I’m okay.” And even if nothing did happen last night, Mark began wishing for something to happen this night. “I think I’m just tired.”

“Alright, I’ll let you get some rest then. Sleep well.”

And then those hot arms were untangling themselves from his skin. Mark wanted to scream at him not to leave, not to leave him yearning like this.

Mark nodded stiffly instead. “Good night.”

Jackson let the door fall shut with a click. Only then did Mark relax, neglecting to continue finding clothes in his frazzled state. He let the towel fall into a damp pile on the floor, pulled on the underwear he had scavenged, and fell onto his bed face first. He rolled around until he was at least partially under the covers. It wouldn’t do him any good to wake up with a sore throat to add onto his growing list of troubles. 

Jackson’s words from this morning rattled around his head. What had he meant by “fun”? And why couldn’t he fucking remember anything? Mark was ready to pull his hair out at this point. There was a weird feeling in his chest that tightened his lungs and made it hard to breathe whenever he thought about the other. Even though Jackson and he weren’t like that, weren’t romantically or sexually involved, why did he suddenly desire him so badly?

 

***

 

Jackson hovered over Mark’s body, staring down at him as if trying to memorize every mole on his skin, every divot of his spine. Mark was on all fours, eyes unfocused on the pillows in front of him. The room was dim, but it didn’t matter. All Mark could concentrate on was the feeling deep inside him, stretching him out with every small push. 

“Wow, it’s really all the way in,” Jackson groaned behind him, bottoming out. “I can’t believe you could take all of me.”

“Well, it’s not like you’re a monster down there,” Mark sassed back.

Jackson’s fingers tightened where they were pressed into his hipbone. He retaliated, giving a sharp thrust directly into Mark’s prostate gland. Mark lurched forward, biting into the pillow to muffle his scream. 

“Try saying that again, Mark-hyung,” Jackson murmured into his ear, developing a steady rhythm. “Don’t hold back your voice now.”

Jackson reached forward, tugging Mark’s bottom lip down with his index finger, prying his mouth open. Mark let his lips part, tongue licking around the tip of his finger.

“Ah…ah…mm Jackson-ah,” Mark moaned out in time with Jackson’s thrusts. 

Their bodies were flush against each other, sweat pooling between them. Jackson wrapped his hand around Mark’s needy cock and was amazed by the sheer amount of precum dripping down. He pressed his thumb down into Mark’s slit, earning another cry.

“You’re leaking so much down here,” Jackson commented aloud. “Does it feel that good?”

Mark nodded, head bumping against Jackson’s chin. “’S good,” he said, but his words were muffled into the pillow.

“Speak up. I want to hear you,” Jackson said, pulling Mark’s head up.

“It feels…s-so good.”

Jackson grinned. He pulled out, causing Mark to whine loudly at the loss, before flipping the elder over onto his back. Jackson felt the air punched out of his chest at the sight under him. Mark’s bangs were a mess, some bits pushed away from his forehead, framing his cheeks that were flushed a brilliant pink all the way up to his ears. His eyes hungrily trailed down the bony planes of Mark’s body, following the toned lines of his abdomen to his painfully hard cock that was dripping excess fluid onto his stomach. 

“Fuck,” Jackson cursed, sliding back in to ease the pressure building in his balls. He went aggressively, thrusting so hard that Mark had to grip onto the pillows for support.

“Ahhnn… Jackson!” Mark squeezed his eyes shut. 

“You look so cute like this,” Jackson praised. 

“Mm!” Mark tightened instinctively at the compliment, making himself moan at the sudden pressure inside of him. Tears stung his eyes.

Jackson gazed down at him with his large eyes hazed over with lust and something Mark couldn’t quite discern. There was a ghost of a smile on his lips. 

Mark was puzzled but far too close to orgasm for logical deduction. His fingernails dug into the skin of Jackson’s back as he came hard between them. He was shivering through the aftermath when Jackson finished as well, cock stilling inside of him as he spilled into the condom. 

Jackson’s voice rasped from above him.

“You’re so beautiful, Mark-hyung. Do you always seduce men like this?”

Mark stared back at Jackson with wet eyes. His lips formed the words, but no sound came out.

_I’ve never done this with anyone but you, Jackson._

 

***

 

“Jackson…” Mark mumbled. “Jackson.”

Mark startled, eyes flashing open. It took him a moment to come to his surroundings. It was dark, but he recognized the ceiling of his room with the light from his alarm clock, the feel of his sheets against his skin. He groaned. He must have woken himself up with his own sleep talking. 

Mark began to roll over in search of more sleep but froze abruptly. This couldn’t be happening. No way. The explicit details of his dream came flooding back, the vivid feeling of Jackson’s cock inside of him, the texture of Jackson’s hand around his own, and all these thoughts were brought back by the wetness between his thighs. 

Dreading what he was going to find, he warily flipped on his lamp and lifted the covers. Sure enough, there was a growing wet patch on the front of his boxers. He couldn’t believe it. This was ridiculous—having a wet dream at this age. He wasn’t a teenager anymore. The maknaes even complained that he was getting too old. 

However, that dream felt incredibly real, and phantom pains continued to radiate from his backside. Could Jackson and he have really…?

Damn it…he needed answers.

But first, he had to clean away all evidence of his shame. 

 

The next morning, Mark woke up late after spending a good twenty minutes in the middle of the night hand washing his underwear and trying to dab away the stain in the middle of his sheets. He had fallen back asleep on the other half of his bed and messed up his sleep cycle. 

Jackson was already awake by the time Mark wandered into the living room, sitting on the couch with Jinyoung’s head on his lap and suspiciously close to his crotch. Someone was in the kitchen cooking a late breakfast. Mark sat on the opposite end of the couch, leaning in to see what Jackson was watching on his phone.

“It’s a fancam from last night,” Jackson explained without having to be asked. “You must’ve been really tired, hyung.”

“Hm?” Mark played with the fabric of his basketball shorts.

“That’s what you said it was, right? Fatigue? You messed up a lot here,” Jackson said, pointing at a certain spot in the choreography.

“I know. I already got called out by Jaebum-ie.” Mark shifted in his seat uncomfortably. It was difficult to watch Jackson and Jinyoung so close together, especially after having a dream of such nature the night before.

“We have another fan meeting today, so I hope you got enough rest,” Jackson said sympathetically. He put a hand on Mark’s knee, pressed into the inner divot under the bone. 

“Good thing we’re scheduled for three hours of dance practice before lunch,” Jaebum said, arriving from the kitchen.

Jinyoung groaned, curling up into Jackson. Mark watched the younger’s nose press into Jackson’s thigh. Mark distantly wondered what Jackson would smell like between his legs. 

“Again? I thought we had the dance down,” Jinyoung pouted.

Jaebum wasn’t buying it. “We still need to practice old songs. Machines get rusty with disuse. Come, let’s eat breakfast.” 

Jaebum walked away first. Mark quickly followed, not wanting to be left alone with the other two. It was a mistake to try to talk to Jackson so early in the morning. That little touch had sent electricity coursing through his body, and he kept fidgeting with the long hem of his shirt to make sure that he wasn’t getting hard. 

 

The first half of dance practice went smoothly. Mark didn’t mess up as badly today, and he was thankful that he hadn’t lost himself completely to thoughts of Jackson. During break, he occasionally glanced over the top of his phone at where Jackson and Jinyoung were huddled in a corner, talking about something together. He felt a tight squeeze in his chest every time Jackson made Jinyoung laugh so hard that he had to cover his mouth as he tilted his head back, the sound resonating through the otherwise quiet room. 

Suddenly gripped by an unreasonably intense wave of irritation, Mark snatched up the quarter full bottle of water next to him and tried to flip it onto the floor upright as if he was trying to prove something. The bottle tipped and landed on its side. The second time didn’t even get close. After the third failed attempt, Mark got so frustrated that he kicked the bottle across the room, witnessing, with mild amusement, how the bottle banged into the mirror and bounced off. 

The loud noise caused six heads to abruptly turn towards him. His eyes roamed over each of them without a word. He was about to excuse himself when he heard Bambam mutter something under his breath.

“What did you say?” Mark snapped, grabbing the front of Bambam’s shirt and dragging him to his feet until their noses bumped. 

Bambam’s eyes were wide. “I-I just said that you d-didn’t have to be so angry. I mean, it’s just a water bottle. I’m sure you can get it your next time.” 

As the younger scrambled for a response, Mark felt sorry for scaring him, but he really wasn't in the right frame of mind to apologize.

“LA gangster Mark!” Jackson yelled cheerily from the corner in a blissfully ignorant attempt to diffuse the situation. 

Mark whipped around, getting two eyes full of Jackson sitting comfortably between Jinyoung’s spread legs while they both looked at Mark, both judging him with their gazes. Petty jealousy sparked in his gut. He clicked his tongue, roughly shoving Bambam away to stalk out of the room.

He needed air. God, he needed to just get away from everything so fucking bad. It wouldn’t help anyone if he ended up punching through a wall, and all he would have is a suspiciously bandaged fist to take away from the experience. Not ideal. 

So Mark headed straight for the stairs, not bothering with the elevators. He ran up the stairs, pushing his already sore thighs to the limit as he booked it up each flight until he reached the top. He pushed open the final door and sighed when he finally felt the wind hit his face and ruffle his hair. He stuck the impromptu rock doorstop in the way so that the door couldn’t fully close.

Sun in his face, air pushing scandalously through his clothes, he walked right to the edge, intertwining his fingers into the metal netting of the fence. He stared straight down, playing with the idea of just jumping over the edge to see if he could fly. He wasn’t suicidal in any sense; he just needed the stress relief, needed something to help him forget about Jackson.

 

The others gave Mark time to cool off, knowing how he preferred to brood alone. Mark returned after five minutes, just in time for the instructor to come back and practice to resume without any awkward silences with the rest. He shut off his thoughts, focusing solely on matching every beat and working his body to the bone. As soon as practice was done, Mark was the first to leave, slipping his sunglasses onto his nose as he headed back to the dorms alone. 

He crashed his way into the shower, turning on the water so that it was scalding. There had been a noticeable disconnect with the others when Mark joined back in. Maybe they talked about him behind his back, discussed how quick to anger he had been recently. Maybe Jackson told, answering the question that had been plaguing his mind and thus leaving him yet still in the dark about the whole situation. Maybe Jackson didn’t even care, returning to coddling Jinyoung with puppy-love affection. Mark slammed the heel of his palm into the shower wall in a frustrated growl. 

“Fuck!” he yelled out, before realizing that he must’ve sounded like a maniac to anyone home. But then the irritation returned. Fuck them. 

The blame wasn’t directed toward any one person; if anything, it was more towards himself. He hated the way his brain shut down with alcohol—that’s why he usually never drank more than one or two beers. That night, he had rolled down enough liquor that he mistakenly believed that that time would be different. Nope. So fucking wrong.

Mark spent more time in the shower than necessary, scrubbing his skin until it turned pink. He came out from the cubicle flushed, but he could hardly see himself in the fogged mirror anyway so who cared. As he was walking back to his room in his towel, their manager ran up to him, informing him that he had ten minutes to get ready before they had to leave for the fan meeting. Damn it, he really had taken more time in the shower than he should have. 

After Mark dressed himself, a stylist noona came in to help him with his hair and makeup. As he was getting blow-dried, he saw Jackson through his open door. He was talking animatedly to someone else in the hall and didn’t notice Mark watching. Mark, however, was enraptured by how the expanse of Jackson’s mouth broke into a wide smile, his eyes twinkling as his tongue enunciated some jibberish that Mark was hardly paying attention to. Jackson suddenly clapped his hands together before yanking the person he was talking to forward and smacking a surprise kiss on his cheek. Mark’s eyes locked with Jinyoung’s as Jackson’s lips pressed into his cheek with a wet smack, and he was caught staring at the worst time possible. Both their eyes went huge, but Mark turned away first, an angry blush tinting his ears and neck red. 

He remembered the way Jackson had kissed him on the cheek just last morning. Compared to this wet mess, the kiss he received could only be labeled a peck.

At this point, it was completely ridiculous to believe that he and Jackson had done anything that night, right? Jackson seemed totally infatuated by Park Jinyoung and least of all by Mark. Sure they used to have their Markson show on ASC, but it’s been over a year since they had acted that intimate on live broadcast or anywhere really. Where Mark had been confused before, he slowly became more and more certain that Jackson was just too friendly with everyone. Mark was just another casualty. 

What was more is that Mark’s mental peace began to completely disintegrate. His thoughts flew to the worst possibility. What if Jackson had really slept with Mark, but he had wished he were Jinyoung the entire time?

 

It was at the fanmeet that Mark almost lost his temper again. He sat next to Jaebum again, waiting idly in a mental lull while the fan took her sweet time talking to their leader. He stared off to the side blankly, pretending to be ignorant of whose direction he was looking while scribbling mindless shapes onto the construction paper covering the table. 

Jackson was leaning towards Jinyoung, whispering something in his ear. Jinyoung turned away, eyes crinkling as he hid his laugh behind his hand. Then Jackson arranged the gifts that they had gotten from their fans, these little light-up name cards, side by side, leaning them against their respective stuffed plushies, Jinyoung’s a peach and Jackson’s a Squirtle. 

With their names aligned, Jackson picked up a microphone from the table. “Wang gae, Park gae!” he exclaimed. 

Jinyoung blushed red, face puffing as he tried to hold in his laughter, and Mark smashed the tip of the marker into the tabletop so hard that the tip cracked. Black ink spread across his hand from where he was touching the exposed color-dyed fibers. 

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath. He called a manager over, apologetically holding out the unusable marker. She chastised him quietly, telling him to be more carefully, before running to find a new marker and some wipes. 

Mark stood then, wiping the excess ink onto his black jeans. He walked to the edge of the stage, sitting so that his legs hung over the side. He took a microphone with him, and he began rapping along with the song playing from the speakers overhead in an attempt to entertain the audience. Distracting his mind from the couple behind him, he answered the fans’ requests for hearts and aegyo without complaint. 

“Should we crown you the new fan service king?” Jinyoung asked into his microphone, suddenly appearing behind him. Mark jumped, dropping the microphone and nearly knocking Jinyoung over where he was squatting behind the elder. 

The embarrassment of his initial shock morphed into defensiveness. “At least I don’t flirt with what belongs to someone else,” he spat before his rational mind could catch up to his mouth. Thankfully, the microphone was rolling on the ground, too far to catch their words.

Jinyoung’s playfulness dropped as his mouth fell open. “I would do no such thing.”

Mark rolled his eyes, bending to pick up the microphone and signaling the end of their talk, but Jinyoung grabbed his elbow hard, fingers digging into the joint.

“Ow!” Mark cried out, scowling at the younger. His eyes flickered to the fans, but they were all engaged in watching Jackson who decided to sit on the other end of the stage to talk to them.

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing. Forget it.” Mark could count on his fingers how many times he had immediately regretted something he had said. His reticence was due to his fantastic filter, analyzing each word that exits. However, his rage had taken advantage of him.

“Mark-hyung?” Jinyoung stared hard at him, reading him like a book. His confused frown progressively melded into a sly smile, and Mark’s stomach turned. “Oh-ho. Do you think Jackson-hyung belongs to you?”

“We are not talking about this here,” Mark hissed at him.

“Okay,” Jinyoung was practically gleaming deviously. “Then I’ll meet you when we get back home.”

Mark nodded slightly, retrieving the microphone. He hoped that the fans wouldn’t notice the tension between them, hoped they wouldn’t see the tremor in his hands. 

Jinyoung refused to relent for the rest of the event. He hugged Jackson from behind, burying his face suggestively into the crook of his neck until the fans squealed. As they sat together, Jinyoung rested his head on Jackson’s shoulder. He was touchy, practically unable to keep his hands off of Jackson. It was enough to make Mark want to scream with the fans but for a completely different reason. 

What was worse was how Jackson readily reciprocated the actions. 

“Jackson-oppa!” a fan yelled suddenly. Mark reacted at the name, eyes immediately drawing to where Jackson stood at the edge of the stage. “If Mark-oppa and Jinyoung-oppa were both drowning, who would you save?”

“Aigoo, you can’t ask me things like that,” Jackson whined back playfully, acting distressed. Jackson looked between the two, but Mark pretended as if he wasn’t paying attention to their interaction. “How am I supposed to choose?”

“I want you,” Jinyoung said in his ear with his microphone in hand, echoing Mark’s lyrics in Mayday, “to find me…and save me.”

“Markson!” one fan screamed in protest.

Mark’s heart began to pound, watching Jackson from a distance to gauge his reaction, but Jackson was already turning to the fan, microphone brought up to his lips. 

“No more Markson, please,” he stated unaffected. 

It was the exact opposite reaction of anything Mark would have expected, and his heart fell so fast it defied gravity. Water rushed to his ears, drowning out the chaotic chatter around him. The speed at which his neutral expression faltered into something vulnerable and pathetic was probably comical. He watched Jackson’s back with pleading eyes, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip, failing to notice Jinyoung watching him carefully.

“Jackson-oppa, you have to choose!”

Mark didn’t realize how he began to lean forward in anticipation of Jackson’s answer as well.

“I can’t choose one!” Jackson protested to the crowd, yet his arm wrapped around Jinyoung’s waist like it was basic instinct. “I’ll be hated by the other’s fans. They’ll see me as trash!”

“No,” another fan joined in, “if you don’t choose, they’ll both drown!”

There was a chorus of agreement. 

Jackson fell to his knees dramatically, one hand curled up into his hair while the other held the microphone. “Agh, I don’t know! I guess…because Mark-hyung is a good swimmer since he was raised in California and had a pool, I’ll have to save Jinyoung.” Jackson squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a distressed sound while the audience went crazy. 

Jackson looked back at Mark, and he didn’t even have the chance to school his expression. It was one rejection after the other. Still, Mark had, for whatever reason, maintained some expectation for Jackson to choose to save him. He wanted Jackson to say his name, needed it emotionally, and yet Jackson chose Jinyoung. And that crushed him. He hated himself for being so gullible to Jackson’s charms. He hated himself for ignoring the obvious tension between the younger two. And all of these thoughts reflected clearly on his face in an icy expression as he stared straight at Jackson.

“Mark-hyung,” Jackson cooed, running over as if he were the one wounded. He fell to his knees on the floor by where Mark was sitting on the table. 

“What?” Mark asked, his expression closed off. He didn’t even bother picking up his microphone. As he stared at Jackson, he managed to wipe the emotion off his face so that only a stoic countenance remained.

“Please forgive me, hyung,” Jackson stared at him with big puppy dog eyes. “I’ll do anything.”

“There’s no need. I don’t need you to save me.” Mark turned to the fans, lifting the microphone to his lips. “Jackson doesn’t have to come rescue me, right?”

Some of the fans made sounds of dissent so Mark continued.

“But I’m a good swimmer. If I wasn’t, how could I hard carry our aghase?” He winked.

It was cheesy, but it was enough to win over the fans in the audience for the moment. They squealed for his sweet words, and he knew he was in the clear. Mark walked away from Jackson then, pretending to be occupied in something else. He had to remind himself that he was still on the job. He had to pretend he was hyper and happy and not like he was suffocating in Jackson’s presence. 

The end of the fanmeet came with bittersweet relief. Mark was genuinely sad to have to say goodbye to the fans, but he couldn’t help the sigh that left his lungs when he stepped into a car without Jackson’s overwhelming aura. Yet, as the car ignition turned and Jinyoung hastily slipped inside, he recalled that he had promised a meeting with the latter, and the bitter feeling returned. 

 

Jinyoung told Mark to meet him in his room as they were getting out of the car, leaving Mark to quickly flee to the bathroom in apprehension. The place was seemingly becoming his safe haven away from the others. He ran the water hot and washed his face. His thoughts were jumbled. He didn’t know if he should feel betrayed by Jinyoung acting so close to Jackson or if he should be apologizing to Jinyoung for potentially having slept with Jackson. Jinyoung wasn’t particularly close to Jackson before. Jackson simply doted on the former and Jinyoung blushed in response. Well, maybe that was a sign as anything. 

Ugh, fuck. Mark turned the water off, face drenched. He picked up the towel and rubbed his face dry. If Jinyoung did have feelings for Jackson, why didn’t he respond when Mark basically admitted to being the ‘other woman’? Was he waiting him out, planning to sabotage him in some way? Or was all of this actually some elaborate prank where Mark would accidentally admit to hardcore crushing on Jackson for years? Realistically, this entire situation could be resolved by Mark simply asking Jackson what happened that night when they were both drunk off their asses. But that was also possibly one of the hardest questions in history to ask. How did one exactly go about asking someone else if they had fucked?

Mark stared at his puffy-eyed reflection, now bare of makeup. He mindlessly picked at a small blemish forming by his jaw. That was exactly what he had to do, wasn’t it?

Mark left the bathroom, with clothes on this time, walking to Jinyoung’s room to have their talk first. He had in some way decided to come clean about his feelings for Jackson. There were a lot of possibilities of how this conversation would go: support, disgust, betrayal, conflict, mocking laughter…and the list goes on. 

He knocked thrice on the door before opening it slowly. When he didn’t hear any sound of protest, he entered the room. He stopped in his tracks when he saw who was sitting on Jinyoung’s bed. 

“Jackson?” Mark asked, mouth falling slack in surprise. 

“Hi,” Jackson responded, just as shocked.

“What are you doing here? Oh, wait never mind. That’s a really dumb question. You must be waiting for Jinyoung since this is his room,” Mark spoke rapidly, answering himself before Jackson could open his mouth. “Well, then I guess I’ll leave you two alone. I don’t know what you need him for, but that’s none of my business. Ah, okay, well I’ll be going now—.”

“Wait!” Jackson shouted, as Mark was about to dip out of the room. “I was actually waiting for you.”

“In Jinyoung’s room?” Mark asked skeptically, turning back around to face the other.

“Yeah, well, I thought that was strange too, but Jinyoung told me to meet you here.”

Mark groaned, sliding his hand through his hair. “We were both played.”

“But I’m seeing you right now, aren’t I?” Jackson looked confused and maybe a little hurt, but Mark didn’t have the mental wherewithal to analyze that at the moment.

“Okay, then _I_ got played. He told me I was going to meet him here, not you.”

“Oh. Sorry it’s just me,” Jackson gave a small smile, looking up at Mark through his eyelashes.

Mark ran his fingers through his bangs, pushing them out of his eyes with resignation. “If it makes you feel better, I equally don’t want to see either of you right now.”

Jackson started, double taking to look at Mark. Somehow, he actually looked stricken based on the amount of anguish on his face. “How come?”

Mark shrugged, trying to play nonchalant to the feelings boiling hot in his gut. He leaned back against the doorframe, but it was more like he crashed into it in a subconscious attempt to flee the room. “I just don’t feel well.”

“Do you want to talk about it? Jinyoung said you had something to say to me. I was kinda confused about why we were meeting here though.”

“I don’t have anything to say. I don’t understand why Jinyoung brought you here; he had no reason to,” Mark said brusquely. He felt a tension building up an invisible armor inside of him, and he needed to leave before he broke down a wall or burst into tears or both, frankly. 

“Mark-hyung, please,” Jackson said, standing up to reach for Mark’s hand. Mark quickly moved his hand into the pocket of his joggers to avoid the gesture. “Talk to me. I want to know what’s wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong.”

“Mark,” Jackson said, suddenly in English, “stop hiding it.”

“It’s not important.”

“If you’re going to act like this, of course it’s important.

They held eye contact for a while, Jackson pleading for Mark to open up to him and Mark slowly breaking down inside. No defenses in the world, not the strongest stone nor the sturdiest metal, could protect him from Jackson Wang.

“It’s not something I can say here,” Mark relented. He glanced around at Jinyoung’s full bookcases and clean walls and wondered how he fell into this trap so easily. 

“Then let’s go back to my room,” Jackson invited. 

Mark nodded then exited first. He knew the way to Jackson’s bedroom, so he didn’t have to wait to be let in. He turned on the light switch as he entered, ignoring the piles of shoes and clothes in the corner in favor of sitting at Jackson’s desk. He swung around in the chair to face Jackson where he stood awkwardly in his own room. This was almost the picture of last night, but now Mark was the one being invited, and he was steadfastly trying to avoid eyeing the bed. 

“So what did you want to talk about?” Jackson asked, moving to sit on the end of his own bed.

“Actually, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

“Go for it.” Jackson patted the empty space next to him. “Come sit.”

“I’m comfortable where I am.” Mark was unable to meet Jackson’s gaze for a second. “It’s about the other day when we got drunk. We fell asleep together, right?”

“Oh, that. Yeah, what about it?”

“Uh, so um ah I don’t know how to say this. Okay, so when I drink too much, I tend to like blackout kinda. What I’m trying to say is that I can’t really remember anything that happened later that night two days ago…sorry.” Mark looked up too see Jackson staring at him blankly, processing. “Did… Did I…do something…to you or…? Did _we_ do something?”

Jackson swallowed. “So is that why you’ve been acting weird lately?” Jackson smiled a little wistfully, the bags under his eyes becoming a little more prominent under the yellow bulbs. “Do you want to know what we did?” Jackson lifted off the bed, coming to kneel between Mark’s spread knees. 

“Jacks—.”

Jackson reached out a hand to lightly cup Mark’s cheek. “As long as you don’t tell me to stop halfway through…” Mark froze where he sat, mentally begging for Jackson’s next words. “I’ll show you.”

And Mark had never blushed that hard in his life, face heating up as his mind raced down the gutter. He imagined them in all sorts of dirty positions, brain short-circuiting in its own metaphorical incognito tab buried deep in his hippocampus. His mouth fell open but no sound came out.

“Mark?” Jackson asked, suddenly concerned with how Mark had clammed up instantly.

“When you say it like that,” Mark put his face in his hands, elbows on his knees. He inadvertently switched back to English in his mental collapse, but his hands muffled his next words anyway. “I guess we…really did it…”

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

Mark shook his head, bottom lip sucked into his mouth. He hadn’t even meant to say it out loud, but he was glad he had the mind to whisper at least.

“Well, I don’t know if it’s exactly what you thought happened, but how about it? Want to stop?” Jackson slid his hand up Mark’s thigh, leaning in closer so that his nose occasionally bumped into Mark’s knuckles. “Or should I continue?”

“I…” Mark lifted his head with some sort of determination. “I want to know.”

As soon as the words were out, Jackson physically carried Mark out of the chair, throwing him down onto his bed so hard that Mark’s body bounced twice in shock. Mark felt the breath knock out of his lungs, and that only added to the breathlessness of this entire situation. Before he could lift himself up into a sitting position, Jackson was clamoring over his slim body, straddling his waist. Mark was too astonished to even speak, hands moving on their own as they situated themselves on Jackson’s hips. But Jackson took this as a sign to continue, pulling Mark’s shirt up, and Mark felt cold fingers against his stomach.

“J-Jackson, actually—ah—maybe I um…”

“You said you wouldn’t tell me to stop, right?” Jackson reminded playfully.

“But…ah!” Mark cried out when Jackson pinched his nipple between his fingertips. Jackson leaned forward until Mark’s vision was filled with his brown hair. He could feel Jackson’s breath against his neck. They were way _way_ too close! He felt so out of control that he could almost lose himself to the feeling of Jackson’s body moving on top of him. 

He tried to speak normally, but the words came out husky and raw. “Jackson…did you r-really do all this to me?”

“No,” Jackson paused, sitting up with a smirk. He paused for effect.

“What then?” Mark almost whined, trying to shift out from under Jackson’s weight.

“ _You_ ,” Jackson tapped Mark’s chest with his index finger, “did all this to _me_.”

“What?” Mark almost yelled, eyes bulging out of his head.

“Well, I’ll admit you didn’t exactly toss me onto the bed like I did, but taking off your clothes as well as mine…” Jackson’s hands trailed down Mark’s sides. “Getting me onto the bed and straddling me like this…” Jackson’s palms were flat against his chest, their heels digging into his nipples. “Crying out ‘Hold me tight!’ I thought you were so cute. It’s a shame that you forgot it all.”

“That—! I—! There’s no way I said that!” Mark was flushing down to his chest.

“You’re adorable when you get this red, Mark,” Jackson said, shushing Mark’s protests with a finger on his lips. “You don’t have to worry. If you’ve forgotten, then I can easily remind you. I’m sure the motions will all come back to you naturally.”

Jackson changed positions so that he could rest in between Mark’s spread legs. He dug his thigh up into Mark’s crotch, making Mark jolt upwards. 

“W-wait, Jackson!” 

Mark nearly moaned something explicit, when Jackson unexpectedly collapsed onto him, shaking. Mark was a little perplexed, but his mind was mostly hazy with the built up lust. Then, he heard a sudden bark of high-pitched laughter right in his ear, and the clouds in his head dissipated in an instant. The younger lifted his head, tears in his eyes from laughing so hard. 

“Just kidding!” he giggled. “Really, all we did was sleep!”

“What?!” Mark screeched, the realization dawning on him. He immediately pushed Jackson off roughly, covering his face with his arm. He turned over so that he was facing the opposite direction. How had he bought all that so easily? Well, you believe what you want to believe, Mark chastised himself bitterly.

Jackson continued, oblivious to Mark’s internal turmoil, or basking in it for all he knew. “It was getting pretty late and everyone else had gone back to their rooms. You wanted to stay and drink some more so I accompanied you.” Jackson slid in behind Mark to cuddle him loosely. He placed his arm over Mark’s waist blithely as he rattled on, “You were practically falling asleep as you sat so I carried you back to your room. I was pretty drunk too so we both just passed out on your bed.”

“But…our clothes?” Mark asked.

“You kept saying how you were really hot, so you took them off yourself. Then you felt embarrassed about being naked alone, so you _insisted_ that I take mine off too. You really don’t remember? I was very flustered with how forward you were being. How will I ever get married now?” Jackson feigned despair.

Mark laughed weakly. 

“So what? Is it different from what you thought?” Jackson asked, nuzzling into Mark’s neck and tickling him with his warm breaths.

“Aish, Jackson! I can’t believe you were just making fun of me,” Mark groaned. “You knew this entire time too! Why couldn’t you just tell me so I wouldn’t get the wrong impression?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Jackson said. He turned to push Mark onto his back. They stared at each other for a moment, a little breathless with Jackson’s leg swung over Mark’s. However, the smile on Jackson’s lips made his apology insincere, and Mark took that as an excuse to punch him in the arm. “Ah! Okay, I deserved that, but you kept alternating between bright red and super pale. It was super fun to tease you like that.”

“Shut up,” Mark complained.

Jackson grinned, attempting to scoot towards Mark and cuddle him closer, but he suddenly felt something hard against his hip. “Huh? There’s no way that’s…” He looked down, a smirk decimating the words on his tongue.

“What?” Mark asked before he realized what Jackson noticed. “Ah!” He rapidly brought his knees up to tent the fabric of his shorts as he brought his hands down to cover the bulge between his legs. “Um, ah, this is—oh shit.” He groaned, realizing that there was no way to excuse this.

Jackson looked more than a little amused. He returned to sitting between Mark’s legs, getting a full view of Mark’s internal—and external—mayhem beneath him. “Wow, um sorry. I guess I took it a little too far.”

Mark wanted to die. He covered his face with his hands to conceal his blush. Jackson looked so entertained with this situation that Mark was going to have a heart attack and just shrivel up and die. How could he be so gullible? He totally and completely fell for Jackson’s act! Way more than he should have. God, he was so mortified.

“Huh?” Mark said in confusion when he felt cold air hit his dick. He peeked between his fingers and saw his lower half exposed, Jackson’s fingers guiltily playing with the waistband that had somehow progressed down to his mid-thigh. “Jackson! What are you—?!”

“I just thought that, you know, since I started all this…I should really take responsibility for your uh…reaction,” Jackson said, a light flush on his cheeks.

“Ah, um…n-no thank you…you don’t have to.”

“I insist,” Jackson said, pulling Mark’s shorts off completely. He wrapped his now-warm hand around Mark’s cock. He slid his fist up and down the shaft. 

“Jackson!” Mark squeezed his eyes shut, shuddering at the sensation. He reached downward to put a hand over Jackson’s in some vain attempt to gain control over what that was happening. It didn’t help. His world was still spiraling out of control, and Jackson had his fucking hand all over his cock. Mark was in heaven.

“Does it feel good?” Jackson asked. He thumbed at the head, watching Mark quiver in response. Mark’s shirt was still hiked up from earlier, and he looked absolutely beautiful. Jackson treasured the little field of skin that was exposed to his eyes. “A lot of precum is coming out just from me touching you a little.”

Mark stared down at Jackson with a look of conflicted pleasure, but Jackson could discern the want in his eyes. Still, Mark shook his head petulantly. “You really don’t have to.”

“You shouldn’t lie to me like that, Mark-hyung,” Jackson said deviously, pushing Mark’s thighs up closer to his chest. The stretch made him cry out. “You promised not to stop me, right? But if you’re too loud the others will hear you.”

Mark had a lot of options. He could easily shove Jackson off of him and leave the room. He could even tackle Jackson to the ground if the situation called for it. However, with Jackson’s warmth around his cock, with Jackson staring at him as if he were the only one existing on this planet right then and there, Mark really didn’t have as many options as he would have liked to think he had. 

Mark nodded his affirmation, and Jackson’s eyes widened, the sudden joy that flooded his system lighting up his face like a Christmas tree.

“Do you mean that?” he asked, incredulous. The grin was splitting his face in half.

“Why are _you_ so surprised? You just told me I couldn’t say no.” Mark stared up at Jackson sideways, hips fluttering up into Jackson’s hand as he sought out more friction.

“But I didn’t actually mean that. If you want to stop, then we can,” Jackson’s hand stilled on Mark’s cock to try to make his point, but the elder actually _whined_ in protest. 

“Don’t stop,” he breathed, guiding Jackson’s hand with his own. He sighed when they developed a steady rhythm, head falling deeper into the pillows. He wanted Jackson on top of him, in him maybe, but the thought of it still brought butterflies to his stomach and the fear of where their mutual curiosity was going to lead them mounted. “H-how far are we going to go?” 

“We can do everything that you imagined happened that night,” Jackson said, smirking.

Mark’s face bloomed in blush, his mind directly going back to that vulgar dream when Jackson pushed into him from behind, hands on his hips while he stretched him open so wide. He bit his lip, staring at Jackson longingly with unrestrained lust.

Jackson took that as an invitation. Holding Mark’s open thigh in his free hand, he lowered his body toward the end of the mattress. He bent down, pressing his lips to Mark’s cock as his eyes flickered shut. 

“Wai—Jackson! What are you—? I didn’t imagine this!”

“It’s okay if I take a little creative freedom, right?” Jackson’s tongue swirled out, licking up the fluid that had gathered, dipping into the slit.

A jolt of ecstasy quivered through his body like the string of a released bow, energy on high. Mark’s hips bucked up with a little tense exclaim. At this point, his heart was palpitating thunderously, almost drowning out Jackson’s next words, but not quite.

Jackson chuckled. “Did you cum a little just now?” he teased.

Mark covered his face with his hands. “Be quiet.”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed. I mean you really have nothing to be embarrassed about,” Jackson commentated, licking at the length occasionally between words. “Like seriously. Have you seen yourself? I can’t believe you’re cute down here too.” Jackson sucked on the head before releasing it with a lewd pop. “It’s so pink.”

“Will you shut up and just do it properly?” Mark whimpered. “I feel like I’m going crazy.”

“It’s not crazy,” Jackson said, pulling down his sweatpants to reveal his own erection, and Mark almost gasped at the sight. “Because I’m the same.” 

Through the outline in his pants and the chance flashes in the bathroom, Mark had a fairly good estimate of Jackson’s size. However, seeing it in person, engorged with blood, was something else. It was thicker than Mark’s, big enough that it looked heavy in his hand. Yet, something about it was…beautiful, in a way. 

Mark wouldn’t admit to the thrum of arousal that shot down to his groin merely at the display before him, but he couldn’t hide how he subconsciously licked at his lips, famished for what Jackson had to offer. Mark lowered his hands, cautiously reaching forward for Jackson. 

Jackson caught the motion with knowing eyes. A friendship with Mark over the years taught him to detect the little changes in Mark’s behavior and to calculate what the elder wanted to say without words. Thus, Jackson sat up on his knees, under Mark’s thighs, and leaned down to slip a hand under Mark’s back. He lifted the elder up so that Mark was perched on his lap. 

As if on instinct, Mark naturally wrapped his legs around Jackson’s hips, and they slotted their cocks against each other like the pieces of an old puzzle, separated but always meant to be together. The view between them was enough to have Mark panting for a clean breath, everything else tainted by Jackson in the most intoxicating way. He watched how his cock rested against Jackson’s, felt the press of soft skin against his member. When he lifted his hips, his cock would tilt down against Jackson’s a little more, and he would feel Jackson’s tip against his own. Yet, although this teasing felt nice, it certainly wasn’t enough. Mark used two hands to rub them together, head leaning against Jackson’s shoulder for support.

“Do it a little harder,” Jackson groaned. “A-ah yeah that’s good…really good. Shit… You really are a fast learner with anything, hyung.”

“Well I’ve been jerking myself off for over a decade now. I think I’d know how to handle jerking two dicks at once.”

“So eloquent,” Jackson laughed. He brushed off Mark’s left hand and brought his own to wrap around Mark’s right

“Ah fuck…” Mark breathed hard at the extra heat around his cock. 

“You like that?” Jackson asked with a smirk.

“Seriously shut up,” Mark panted, voice too unfocused to sound mean. 

“Um, do you mind if I spit on it?” Jackson asked, the uncertainty in his voice piquing Mark’s attention.

Mark looked down at how Jackson had slowed down his hand with a frown. He bowed his head forward and spit into the small space between their cocks. He looked back up at Jackson with heated eyes.

“Do you want more?”

Mark watched as Jackson’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. The younger gave a terse nod, and that was all he needed before he was sliding off of Jackson’s lap and taking him into his mouth. He swallowed around the thickness of his cock until he was gagging slightly, and saliva dripped out of his mouth in reflex. He sloppily sucked back up, leaving Jackson’s dick shiny with fluid. He dipped down and licked up the excess spit that began to trail down the divot of Jackson’s balls, making the younger gasp above him. 

“Is that wet enough?” Mark asked, eyes flickering up to Jackson’s face.

“Y-yeah,” Jackson stuttered, previous composure vanishing for an instant. “Now come back up here so I can make you cum.”

Mark giggled at his obnoxiously confident words. Just to defy the younger, he leaned backwards into the pillows, tilting his head to the side so that the pale skin of his neck would be exposed, muscles standing taut. 

“Why don’t you come here?” he beckoned, and Jackson followed him like a pirate to treasure.

Mark was almost overwhelmed by the force of Jackson’s presence as he towered over him, smell drifting off of his skin and flooding Mark’s nose. Mark clutched Jackson’s biceps as the younger bracketed his supine body with ease. Jackson gripped their cocks together once again, and Mark moaned loudly into the near silent room.

“You can’t be so loud,” Jackson warned again, but Mark could only hear the heat in those words. He disregarded the denotation of the words.

“Then we’re going to have to continue this somewhere else next time because I really want to scream for you,” Mark said, tasteless words easily slipping past his lips while the heady cloud of lust could obscure the latent wish for more, for a next time. 

“It’s really a sin how sexy you are,” Jackson cursed, hips rolling forward.

Jackson began to dictate their speed then, rubbing harder and faster than Mark’s previous lazy pace. He ground down against Mark’s cock even as his hand unraveled Mark’s feeble grip on sanity. It wasn’t long until Mark was a panting mess beneath him.

“Mark-hyung…are you close?” Jackson asked.

“Mm,” Mark nodded feverishly. 

“Me too,” Jackson admitted, squeezing harder.

Mark’s eyes instinctively roamed the satin of Jackson’s pink lips. He wondered what it would feel like to have those soft, plush pieces of flesh against his own. How would Jackson kiss? Would he be rough and demanding? Or would be gentle and sweet, sucking on Mark’s lips more than biting? But an answer to these questions would only leave Mark yearning for more. It didn’t matter though. His mind was just pulling him back to the pressure around his cock, the slip of another dick against his own, back to Jackson’s stuttering breaths against his shoulder, and he really was close.

“Hyung… Hey, Mark-hyung, can I kiss you?”

Mark’s eyes widened, thinking that he had been caught staring. “No!” he shouted. “No…”

Jackson’s eyes fell. “No? Why?”

They were both panting hard, but the sudden rejection slammed Jackson back down into reality. Mark, however, was still high up in the stratosphere off of the pure pleasure.

“Because,” Mark scrambled for words in his jumbled head, but what came out still didn’t make much sense, “if…if I do that with you… I won’t—ahh—I won’t be able to do it…without it again…”

“You’ll want to keep doing it?” Jackson asked, watching the red flush of Mark’s ear deepen. 

“I…I’m—ahhn!” 

Jackson stuck his finger into Mark’s slit in the way that he knew got him off, cutting his words off into a loud moan. Mark’s head fell forward, crying out onto Jackson’s shoulder, biting into his muscle. His whole body shuddered as ropes of cum shot out of him, painting Jackson’s stomach with white.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Jackson murmured, biting at Mark’s earlobe. Hearing Mark give his final whimper onto his skin, feeling Mark’s strength crumble so that the elder could only cling onto him weakly, pushed him over the edge. He bit his lip to restrain his moan as he came onto Mark’s body. 

They laid like that for a moment, both breathing hard. Jackson was holding himself up over Mark, staring down almost possessively. He used his clean fingers to brush back Mark’s hair. He dreaded the moment when they would have to step out of their little bubble and clean the splattering of semen that was running down both their stomach and pooling between them. 

“I’m sorry,” Jackson said quietly, almost too quietly for Mark to hear.

There was equal desire pumping between, setting fire to their blood. It left both of them desiring more but with hardly enough confidence to speak the words.

Jackson turned away first, back to Mark as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. As he walked to the bathroom for a towel, Mark stared at the rakes of scratch marks descending down the younger’s back. 

 

***

 

“Do you always seduce men like that?” Jackson asked, hovering over him, filling his vision with his larger form.

Mark paused, stunned, before tears welled in his eyes, spilling over. Jackson startled in an instant.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—.”

“That’s so mean,” Mark cut him off. “Even though that was my first time, you…you—.”

“Huh? Wa-wait! Mark-hyung, you mean you were a virgin?!” Jackson leaned into Mark’s teary face, trying to wipe away what he could. “S-sorry, I didn’t think… I wouldn’t have come on so strong if I knew—.”

Mark giggled, quickly covering his face with his hands, mood switching like the flip of a coin. “That’s my first time seeing you so flustered because of me. It’s funny.”

“Yah, hyung.” Jackson stared at him with his eyebrows creased, trying to decipher the quick change in atmosphere. 

“Yah, Jackson,” Mark echoed, giggling.

“You’re still drunk aren’t you?” He tugged at Mark’s hands, trying to see his face. When he succeeded, he was momentarily stunned. Mark’s eyes were still wet, but his cheeks were flushed red, lips bitten and pink. His expression was simply glowing with postcoital euphoria. 

“Nuh-uh.” Mark stuck out his tongue.

But Jackson was done joking. He had to get this out if this experience was going to go anywhere. 

“To have you with me like this…after I’ve liked you for so long, I’m afraid that this will all seem like a dream come morning,” he said softly, running his fingers through Mark’s hair. 

“If that’s the case, I should make it the best dream ever,” Mark said. It was cheesy, incredibly so, but Jackson was immediately taken by the way Mark wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

“A dream huh,” Jackson repeated, rolling the words over his tongue. Little did he know how true those words would soon be. “Alright then. I’ll give you a night beyond your wildest dreams,” he smirked, oozing with that greasy fake confidence he often liked to wear.

Jackson pressed his palm against the inside of Mark’s thighs, opening him up again. He stared into Mark’s eyes as he stuck two fingers in at once, needlessly prepping him again just to be safe. 

“Jackson,” Mark whimpered. “Just put it in already.”

“Sure, baby,” Jackson said, the pet name slipping past his lips before he could stop himself. He clammed up immediately, glancing at Mark for reassurance that that much was okay. 

Mark merely giggled at him. “My sweet little sugar cakes,” he cooed back.

Jackson rolled his eyes but was unable to hold back his bark of laughter. “You’re too much.”

Mark looked as if he had something to retort, but Jackson took the opportunity to pull out his fingers and slide his cock in to the hilt, shutting up any idle thought on Mark’s mind. Mark’s eyes fell closed, and he appeared so damn content to be filled up with Jackson’s cock again.

Jackson slammed into him then, pushing out quiet whimpers with each thrust. He spread Mark’s knees and pressed them to the side and into the bed, stretching Mark beyond his flexibility. Mark moaned out something caught between pleasure and pain, but he was crying for more. 

The view before Jackson was incredible. From above, he could watch as his cock slid into Mark’s pink hole, softer than the first time and much more inviting. Yet, Mark had taken him so easily initially that it was no surprise that Jackson thought he had previous partners. Jackson slid his hands along the pale skin of Mark’s thighs until he reached his target. He kneaded his thumb into the area under Mark’s balls. 

Mark tightened. “No…Jackson, I-I’ll come again. Please!”

“So soon? Mark-ah, at least try to hold back a little.” Jackson held Mark around the base of his penis and squeezed, cutting off the flow.

“Ah! No!” Mark’s whole body tensed up. “Ahhn…why are you being so mean?”

“If you can hold back, it’ll feel so much better when you finally cum.” Jackson leaned forward, so near to Mark’s face that their open-mouthed breaths intermingled. Jackson stared closely as Mark’s eyes squeezed shut. He studied the dark eyelashes ghosting over his cheekbones. “I want you to remember this, that it’s not a dream. I want you to know that this is real.”

Mark nodded, accepting everything Jackson was saying. Jackson shifted his hand up along Mark’s length, thumb brushing against the head of Mark’s cock. Mark’s whole body tensed, squeezing tight around Jackson’s cock, as his mouth fell open in shock.

“Ack! Not there! Dont—!”

But Jackson was pressing harder into Mark’s slit, forcing an orgasm out of him. Mark grabbed tight onto Jackson’s back, reopening the wounds that he already made on his skin from their first round. Mark came wetly across his stomach, Jackson soon following with the renewed pressure around his cock. 

They took a moment to recuperate. Jackson trailed his fingers down Mark’s abdomen, drawing idle circles in his semen.

“I w…this” Mark panted, chest heaving. He gazed at Jackson through half-closed lids, eyes glazed over with bliss.

“Huh?” Jackson asked, leaning in to hear him better. He felt Mark’s hot breaths across his lips, and he had never wanted to kiss another man so badly in his entire life.

“This was better than a dream… I won’t be able to forget this,” Mark murmured before the fatigue finally captured him.

 

***

 

Jackson brushed his thumb over Mark’s lips while the elder slept, tracing the plush flesh. The room was dim with the lights now off and the door shut. A little light streamed in past the curtains, allowing Jackson to admire the beauty before him.

“You were saying such lovely things before,” he whispered to an unconscious Mark. 

Mark had soon passed out after Jackson sucked at his oversensitive cock until he came a second time. Jackson stroked across Mark’s delicately soft cheek, wishing those bright eyes would turn to face him, wishing his lips could utter the words to ease the tension in his heart.

“To completely forget everything…you’re a cruel man, Mark-hyung.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT [170521]: okay, I changed the chapter tag thingy for anyone still hanging on. so yes, I’m writing a second part. sorry i'm indecisive as f, but really thank you to all the lovely comments encouraging me to actually put an ending on this mess. they kept me going, seriously. i'm in the finals currently so idk when a new chapter will actually come out, but please anticipate it <3


	2. awake (the nights without you)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this chapter took so long! I've written and rewritten this thing so many times because I wasn't happy with the outcome...and then I got busy... well, excuses, excuses I know. But I'm back and it's here so enjoy! <3

Mark startled awake, heart pounding so hard that he felt the pulse in his fingertips. The dream still laid heavy in his thoughts, occupying his mind with fantasies of Jackson’s hands on his skin, until he recalled the events that occurred just last night.

When he had first opened his eyes, he hadn’t yet noticed the unfamiliarly colored walls, the different comforter on the bed, nor the large body beside him. In the dull eeriness of twilight, everything seemed to blend into a haze. Mark tried to turn over to rediscover his pleasant dreams but was impeded by a heavy arm lying across his stomach. Looking down, he found that he really did have Jackson’s fingers on his skin.

Now the memories came flooding back in full, and the sudden panic that shot through his system explained the war drum pulsing through his arteries. They had said a lot of absolutely nothing last night in the span of a mere hour before they both succumbed to sleep, and now Mark was confused about where they stood. Not to mention, he really had to pee and his initial panic was certainly not helping.

He wiggled his body to the side, attempting to slide out of Jackson’s grip without waking him up. He made it a few inches before Jackson’s hand tensed where it lay on Mark’s stomach, trying to unconsciously grab at Mark but instead tickling the elder. Mark let out a high-pitched sound as his leg kicked out to protect himself.

Jackson awoke then to a squirming Mark and a throbbing shin. 

“Mark-hyung?” Jackson asked blearily. “What’s wrong?”

“You,” Mark panted, “almost made me pee myself.”

Jackson’s eyes widened, hands flying up off of Mark’s body. He scrambled to the far end of the bed, tugging all the blankets off with him. 

“You didn’t though right?” he asked as an afterthought.

“Do I _look_ like I wet myself?” Mark deadpanned. 

Jackson’s eyes followed the line of his body down and stayed stuck there. “You could make me wet myself,” Jackson murmured carelessly, his voice deep in sleep and lust.

That elicited enough curiosity from Mark to look down as well. Mark let out a strangled gasp. For a second time, he was completely naked in bed with Jackson, but today he had no bed sheets to preserve his modesty. And Jackson just kept staring! His gaze seemed to be glued between Mark’s skinny legs where his soft dick hung limp.

Mortified, Mark did what he could with his hands, quickly turning around and racing to the adjoined bathroom. He slammed the door shut in his haste and would have slid down the piece of wood like some angst-ridden mermaid if his bladder weren’t so damn full. Finally at the toilet, he relieved himself, but the anxiety did not fade. He was going to have to walk back out there, virtue dangling around, and search for his clothes somewhere on the floor.

He steadied his nerves as he flushed the toilet and washed his hands. He was rinsing the soap off his hands when there was a knock on the door.

“I got your clothes for you,” Jackson said through the door. “I won’t look.”

One breath in, and Mark swung the door open anyway. He hadn’t done all that mental preparation for nothing. He watched with mild amusement as Jackson’s eyes almost bulged out of his head. Jackson stood before him, shell-shocked, with underwear on his hips and clothes in his arms.

“You saw me in much more scandalous position last night. I think I can handle this.” 

“Didn’t you just run away from me like thirty seconds ago?” Jackson teased, raising an eyebrow.

Mark ignored him, letting him gawk at his body as much as he wanted. Honestly, it was a little flattering, and an odd heat began to lick at the base of his gut. Mark grabbed his shirt first and tugged it on. It was long enough to cover his crotch and everything that hung down. He took the rest of the bundle into his arms. 

“I should probably go back to my room to wash up.”

“At least put some underwear on,” Jackson said, begging as if it were more for his own peace of mind than anything.

“No one’s going to be awake now anyway,” Mark brushed off. “My purity will be spared yet another day.”

Jackson almost choked on the laugh that bubbled out of his chest. “Yeah, yeah, just go before I consider stealing it first.” He tapped Mark on the ass, directing the way out of the room.

“Who said you’d be the first?” Mark giggled, halfway through the doorway. 

A response burned in Jackson’s throat— _you did, that night we were together, when you told me you were a virg_ —but he swallowed it down. 

“Then we both only have room to improve,” Jackson retorted. His tone was far less teasing, and Mark was jolted out of his flirtatious mood. He glanced at Jackson warily before walking away, leaving Jackson with one foot out of the door and the rest of his body pulling him back inside. Mark hated the way his insides turned at the thought of Jackson inside of someone else.

 

Mark didn’t see Jackson again until Yugyeom was knocking on his door to come out for breakfast. He sat awkwardly away from Jackson on the second couch in their living room, choosing to listen to Bambam and Yugyeom babble on about some new American album release while he ate his eggs. 

Jackson still wasn’t wearing a shirt, and Mark could barely keep his eyes from devouring the exposed skin along with his bacon and eggs. When Jackson shifted his arms such that his muscles minutely flexed, Mark’s mind took a dive down the gutter, imagining marking up that pretty skin with his own personal signature. 

Jackson finished first since he had an early schedule, and a hint of disappoint crossed Mark’s face as he got up to leave. He wanted to reach out and stop the man, but he knew better. Yet, despite that, Jinyoung suddenly reached out to grab Jackson’s wrist, pulling him back down into the couch beside him. Mark watched carefully as Jinyoung pressed a finger into Jackson’s back, touching something that was out of sight. He watched as Jackson’s face momentarily contorted in pain. Jinyoung whispered something to Jackson, but he only shook his head. No one else saw this interaction.

Mark didn’t notice how he began to scowl, instead focusing on continuing to study Jackson’s movements as he stood. 

“Mark?” Bambam asked from beside him.

“What is it?” Mark asked, eyes still on Jackson. 

“You look angry,” the younger replied cautiously.

“I’m not,” Mark replied too quickly. His mind was still elsewhere. He vaguely remembered seeing scratches down Jackson’s back last night and wondered if that was what Jinyoung pointed out. But then that only pressed the question of what caused those marks. They were too far apart and too dull to be from Jaebum’s cats. They must have been made by a human hand.

His dream flashed back before his eyes, and he could physically imagine the sensation of his nails breaking Jackson’s skin. But that couldn’t have been real, right? No way. Dreams only reflected one's own inner yearnings, not reality.

However, Mark could still imagine the sensation of being pulled apart and thoroughly wrecked from behind when nothing had ever entered him before. He was still sore when he sat down in a specific manner, and he was becoming more and more certain that no amount of strange strenuous activity could have produced _this_ sort of a pain. 

A sick form of jealousy nevertheless kindled in his lungs, sucking up his oxygen and leaving him breathless. _Someone did_ that _with Jackson._ He laid his head back against the couch, closing his eyes and ears to the world around him. It was unfair that he was jealous over Jackson’s past partners when they hardly owed each other anything on the romance front—or even on the sexual front for that matter. Maybe Mark was being too easy, acting as another notch on Jackson’s bedpost, but he wanted the other man so badly that he could hardly restrain his hormones. Not to mention just how fucking _good_ Jackson looked with Mark’s cock in his mouth—.

“Mark!” 

Mark started, eyes flashing open. His head automatically turned to the location of the voice—Jaebum’s—but he soon realized that the other members were all staring at him as well.

“What?” Mark replied, trying to stop the blush that was creeping up his ears from being caught in the middle of such dirty thoughts. 

“I was just saying that we only have an hour left before we have to go to the airport. Don’t forget to pack everything you need.”

“Ah!” Mark startled. He had gotten so distracted by Jackson that he had completely forgotten to prepare his luggage to go to Japan. 

“You forgot, didn’t you, hyung?” Jaebum asked, exasperated.

Mark nodded sheepishly.

“Try to concentrate, alright? We’re going to be in front of the press.”

“Is Jackson not coming with us?” Bambam asked.

“He’ll arrive later.”

“I wish he would consider his health more.”

“We all do, but we also know how he loves to stay busy,” Jinyoung noted reasonably. For a moment there Mark resented how Jinyoung could describe Jackson better than he could. But it didn’t matter. They had been together for years, and during this time, an inseparable bond had developed. They were all friends. Of course they would understand each other on a deeper level than average. They should, anyway.

Oh, who was he kidding? He was bristling with anger that he didn’t know where to place. He stormed off to his bedroom, biting at his bottom lip until the pain finally registered in his clouded head. He yanked his suitcase out of the closet harder than he should have, causing random boxes to come tumbling out along with it. Cursing, he kicked them to the side and began compiling clothes to bring. 

Mark was halfway through, stewing in his thoughts all the while, when he heard a knock on his door. Who the hell was it now?

“Come in.”

Jinyoung poked his head through the door. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Mark responded rather dismissively.

Jinyoung sat himself on Mark’s bed. “So,” he began conspiratorially. “I came to ask about what happened last night. Did you two realize that you were star-crossed lovers bound by eternity to end up together?”

Mark rolled his eyes. “You read too many books. Nothing happened.”

Jinyoung actually snorted at that. “Oh, please. Jackson was practically jumping off the walls this morning. You clearly did something.”

Mark squinted. That was hardly the image of Jackson he had seen today.

“Maybe he’s excited for his schedule today. He always ends up either meeting old friends or making new ones.”

“Albeit true, that can’t be all of it. So, really, what did you two do that you could not do in my room?” 

“We…we uh got each other off,” Mark said in a low voice, hoping more to not be heard at all. He moved to pack his toiletries into a quart-sized bag so that his back was to Jinyoung. Mark was expecting an exclamation of some sort from the latter, whether it be a scream of horror or a shout of congratulations, but none came. 

“And?” Jinyoung said instead, as if impatient. “Did you confess to him? Did he tell you what happened when you got drunk?”

“First, no. Second, he told me we both just passed out.”

“Just passed out,” Jinyoung repeated incredulously.

“And what happened last night also doesn’t mean anything.”

“Doesn’t mean anything?” Jinyoung started to sound like a broken recorder. “ _He_ said that?”

“Well, no…but I know that he just did it out of obligation anyway. Even the smallest possibility that he also would have wanted it…that would be too good to be true,” Mark said softly, unwilling to admit how effortless it was to submit under Jackson’s arms, falling for the younger man’s words to such an extent that he got an erection. He had been so easy, too easy. “We both know how he always puts others’ needs before his own.”

“Yes, but I don’t think sex is something he would give selflessly. He may try to be Mother Teresa, but remember that Mother Teresa wasn’t a whore.”

“But this wasn’t sex. It was just…mutually helping each other out.” Mark shrugged it off as he bent down to shove more things in his bag.

“You can’t mean that,” Jinyoung said, giving him the most pitying look. If anything, it made Mark’s frustration grow.

“Of course I don’t mean that, but what else should I think? I can’t trust him so easily when his heart is pining for another,” Mark spat out as he turned to face Jinyoung.

“You think he likes someone else?”

“Some things you don’t have to hear to know.” Mark replayed all the scenes of Jackson completely infatuated with Jinyoung over the last couple of years: the pet names, the stares, the giggles, and the touching. It was as innocent as it was dirty, with cute hand holding in private and vicious shirt yanking on stage. After Jackson ceased to seek out Mark’s comfort when they were out walking together, those were the moments that he never got to experience anymore.

Jinyoung frowned. He opened his mouth to reply, but Mark was so done with this conversation.

“Can you get out now, actually?” Mark interrupted, tone teetering on the brim of polite. “I need to finish packing, and you’re sitting on my clothes.”

Jinyoung jumped up, startled. He looked down at the crumpled sweatshirt that laid neglected on the bed. “Ah, sorry, hyung. I’ll get out of your way.” He headed toward the door, one hand on the knob. “But, you know, if you want something serious with Jackson, you just need to talk to him about it.”

Mark bit the inside of his cheek, fingers balled into a pair of jeans. “If—when—I get rejected…” He took a deep breath. “No, that just isn’t the kind of situation that I would ever want to put the rest of the group through.”

Jinyoung nodded silently and exited the room, mouth drawn in a tight line. There was nothing he could argue against that, Mark knew, because they both deeply cared about the fate of the group above all else. It may be their livelihood, but it was also their family. Mark waited until the door shut before he fell to his knees on the carpet. He leaned his head forward, his bangs sweeping over his eyes as he tried to pretend that it didn’t feel like his insides were eating him alive.

 

Soon enough, the six of them were piling into two cars to head to the airport. Mark spent the commute on his phone, watching videos and checking social media. Seeing all the Markson tags hurt in an achy sort of way because they only reminded him of the way Jackson had shot down that one fan’s support of their ship. He remembered the baby blue and pink Markson sign that hung on the wall of their room back in their old dorm, but those days have long since passed. It didn’t do well to dwell on the past. He laid his phone to the side and leaned his head against the glass of the window. Somehow, he couldn’t even bring himself to waste time on his phone, so he closed his eyes and willed himself to nap.

Eventually, they were unloading in front of flashing cameras and curious eyes. Mark had a cap drawn low over his eyes and a black mask on his face to hide the swell of sleep and patchy skin. He talked with Bambam until they got the go ahead to walk inside. The rest was a breeze. Mark shut off his pestering mind, working solely on autopilot as he sped through security. The rest was routine. Walk, sit, board, sit, headphones, deplane, car ride, and finally they arrived at the hotel. 

Their manager handed Mark a little folder with his room key and number. He left first with his luggage, riding up to the tenth floor. There were two beds awaiting him, so he took the one closest to the window. He supposed his roommate was still coming up. After situating his belongings, he went to shower off the odor of the airplane that clung to his clothes. 

When he came out, hair damp and face fresh, his stomach sank. The other bed still stood vacant, and Mark quickly connected the dots. 

Mark pulled on a plain shirt and jeans with stiff limbs. They had a fan meeting that night, and he was running a little late. That was his first priority. He could handle the reality of rooming with Jackson again later. 

The others were waiting for him when he finally arrived downstairs in the lobby.

“Hey, um who made the rooming arrangements this time?” Mark asked Jaebum as they were walking out. A gust of wind blew through the thin layer of his shirt without remorse, and he shivered.

“I think Jinyoung said that he really wanted to.”

Mark couldn’t tell if Jinyoung’s interference was a blessing or a curse.

 

The members were swiftly loaded into another car and driven to the venue. Mark’s mind blanked out as he was dressed and styled. He was tying a bandana over his hair when he heard someone clatter in. The noise level instantly tripled. It must be Jackson. No one else had that kind of effect from just his or her presence. Nevertheless, Mark walked out anyway, curious. He followed the clamor to the main room downstairs. It sounded like Jinyoung’s laugh. 

“Yah, stop it, hyung,” Jinyoung said, but the strict phrase was punctured by giggles. 

“Jinyoung-ie,” Jackson cooed.

Mark barely had time to register the words before he was walking in on Jackson straddled over Jinyoung’s lap on the couch, shirt gathered up under his hands. The scene was…scandalizing…and yet, Jaebum sat calmly in the corner, earphones in as he read over something in his notebook, not paying them any mind. Meanwhile, Mark couldn’t help but pay them his entire mind. He stumbled over his feet and turned to walk out when his eyes caught Jinyoung’s over Jackson’s shoulder. 

“Mark-hyung!” Jinyoung greeted, face flushed in a manner typical to one’s complexion after experiencing the whirlwind known as Jackson. But Mark didn't want to see that on anyone else.

“Jinyoung,” Mark replied coldly. He was halfway out the door, his back still turned to face out of the room. He chewed at his lips, unprepared the witness in full force the attraction between the two. His head creaked back around slowly, deliberately. “Did you need something?”

“I was just going to ask what you were doing here,” Jinyoung said, eyebrows drawn in confusion. The younger was trying to read him. 

_Fuck off._

Mark plastered a smile on his face. “I was done getting ready, so I decided to wander. I’ll let you two get back to your uh…moment now.”

Mark stormed back, icily brushing off a kind staff member’s reminder on time, choosing to instead brood in front of the mirror of his dressing room. His eyes turned up towards the lights. He wasn’t going to cry at something so insignificant, but he did wish that Jackson had come to see him first. If not because they were close friends, then because they had sailed into intimate waters the night prior. But he supposed it really must have meant nothing.

 

The stage was over before Mark could register it. The other members complimented that Mark was in good condition, but really his own frustration had culminated into a vicious wit and a bitter sense of humor. He and Jackson hardly interacted for the few hours they were up there. He barely touched Jackson when he caught him during If You Do, and Jackson likewise neglected his customary, yet unnecessary, slap on the ass. But again, they had stopped doing that for over a year now. So while Mark danced until his legs wanted to give out and yelled until his throat was raspy, he forced himself to tamp down his nonstop instinct to seek Jackson out with his eyes at every turn. 

Thankfully, he hadn’t made any major mistakes and rapped the correct words to the proper beat. The microphone had almost slipped out of his hands when he saw Jackson and Jinyoung dancing together in such proximity that there was zero room for Jesus or whatever his schoolteachers used to preach, but he hastily recovered himself and caught the offending instrument. He came back that much stronger, straining his throat to belt out the next words over the music. 

And then it was done.

“Hey, you look really good tonight,” Jackson caught Mark by the arm as they were heading back to their dressing rooms after the show. The adrenaline that was still coursing through his system made Mark flinch at the contact. It wasn’t anything else…just the previous excitement bleeding through.

“Yeah? Did you just finish telling all the other guys that?” Mark tipped his head back to where the other five were trailing behind them, joking around about something he couldn’t quite hear.

“No? Just you.”

Mark took a deep breath, incredibly aware of how his heart had tripled its pace in his rib cage. “Thanks. You look good too.”

“No, not like that,” Jackson shook his head. “I mean, like…you look _really_ good.” His voice had dropped into the octaves of ‘sexy,’ and Mark wasn’t sure he could handle it.

“Like what? A ten on the scale of fuckable to not?” Mark said, intending for it to run off as a joke, but the look Jackson gave him was nothing but serious. 

“You’d break the scale.”

Mark slapped his arm, attempting for that simple motion to push away Jackson’s insistent pressure.

“Stop being gross. That was so cheesy,” he laughed off. 

Afterwards, it was simple for Mark to recede back into himself, cloaking himself in silence to avoid the social pleasantries. He remained glued to his phone on the drive back, and no one bothered him. However, when they were all packed tight into a hotel elevator on their way up to their rooms, Mark could feel every centimeter of Jackson’s arm as it brushed against his. His nerves sparked like live wire. 

Mark and Jackson were on the first floor, and Mark rushed out as soon as the doors opened. Only after exiting the suffocating metal death trap could Mark regain enough composure to wish the others good night. The corridor, however, wasn’t much better. 

“So we’re rooming together?” Jackson asked the obvious to fill the silence, but Mark only nodded. 

The walk to the room was tense. Mark tried to distract himself with the futuristic ambiance and glass walls, but the decor was futile in quelling the fire burning next to him. He was immediately and constantly aware of the heat of the body trailing beside him, the smell of his cologne intensified by his sweat, and the occasional bump of shoulders. The medley was intoxicating in the small space of the hotel hallway. 

Mark took the card key out of his back pocket to unlock the door. He went inside first, holding the door open for Jackson to follow.

“You can shower first,” Jackson said. “I still need to unpack.”

Again, Mark nodded. He took a change of clothes with him into the bathroom. Calmly removing his makeup, he was mentally panicking. It was so awkward now, standing on uneven ground with someone he had known for years. The shower he took was far too short to regain his peace of mind, but he didn’t want to keep Jackson waiting forever.

Mark came out, freshly washed and free of sweat. He plugged in his phone to charge and sat on his bed while Jackson turned on the showerhead. Mark could hear the steady thrum of water against the tiles through the closed door. Jackson was humming a tune he couldn’t recognize, and Mark began drifting off. He imagined brown eyes and wet lips, muscular thighs and a boyish laugh. A smile snuck its way onto his face even in his sleep. 

Through the haze of sleep, he vaguely registered a door opening and a Jackson stepping out. When he came to again, there were hands lifting him up and moving the blankets out from under him. Mark hummed contentedly, reaching a hand up to grasp Jackson’s nape. As his fingertips grazed over the soft short hairs lining Jackson’s neck, Mark began to gain consciousness. 

“…ark…Mark, you have to let go,” Jackson was saying, but Mark could only look up into that gorgeous face with parted lips, utterly dazed. Jackson was so close that Mark felt himself drowning in the depths of his eyes. He could smell the minty toothpaste on his tongue, and he blinked once slowly. That motion allowed enough sense to register itself in his brain, and he let his hand fall limp to his side.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, tugging the blankets up and over himself. Curling his body into fetal position, he wound up with his eyes staring straight at Jackson’s clothed crotch. He noticed for the first time that Jackson was wearing nothing but an open robe over a lone pair of boxer briefs. Mark tucked a hand between his thighs under the sheets, nails digging into his skin, as he felt a lazy arousal thrum through his system. 

Jackson knelt down beside him so that they were now at eye level, and Mark couldn’t escape it unless he were to blatantly turn around to the face the other direction. He knew better than to act like that in front of someone who was so sensitive.

“Don’t be,” Jackson said gently. His eyes turned soft like melted chocolate. “But could I ask you something? It’s really weird, and I don’t know what you’re going to think. I, um, you don’t, uh—I just really want to b-because, you know, um…never mind. But like it is totally, completely, definitely okay to reject me.”

Mark nodded, sucking on his bottom lip.

“Could I give you a blowjob?” Jackson asked, the words nonchalantly spilling out of his mouth as if he had just offered to buy Mark a coffee. 

“What?” Mark’s mouth fell open, and he had to push himself up onto an elbow to fully comprehend the situation. He was certainly awake now. “You want to _give_ me one? Not the other way around?”

Jackson shrugged shyly, looking down at the carpet. “I’m turned on, and the shower did not help. This would be less taxing on you. Plus, I figure this’d be more fun for the both of us than if I just masturbated alone.”

Mark briefly wondered what had flipped Jackson’s switch. Was it all the subtle grinding, flirty winks, and lip bites that he shared with Jinyoung on stage under the eyes of thousands? Or maybe, if dreams really could come true, it had to do with Jackson’s random compliment backstage, the strange attempt at an _invitation_.

“Why…me?” He spewed the question like he was choking on the words.

“Well, you’re here aren’t you?” Jackson’s smile was killer. “We’ve already seen so much of each other. Since I’d already done it a little last night, I thought you’d be okay with doing it again…to completion.”

Ah… So this was all because of Mark’s availability. Mark had already unwittingly fallen into the role of the friend with benefits, the side consort, as Jackson sought out another. The wave of bitterness that washed through him trapped clumps of sand in his lungs, making it difficult to breath. Maybe the reason Jackson suggested all of this was because he wanted to imagine that he Jinyoung in his mouth while he sucked on Mark. The thought repulsed Mark in a manner beyond standard jealousy. 

“But…is that…?” _is that all?_ Mark opened and closed his mouth a few times before he was able to continue. “Is that what you really want? You’ve already worked so hard today, so if you want to rest while I do it for you, that’d be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Like you said, I already did this last night so what’s the harm?”

A smile split Jackson’s face. “Okay, then scoot over.”

 

Somehow reality hadn’t caught up to Mark until he was on his elbows between Jackson’s legs while the younger was pulling out his cock in front of his face. He already knew Jackson wasn’t any sort of small, but seeing the thick organ standing half-mast at eyelevel was something wholly different. Mark took a quick breath, hesitating. It wasn’t uncertainty or fear holding him back; it was more of the concern of if he wasn’t good enough. What if he couldn’t get Jackson off with his mouth? The nagging distress about his ineptitude had him biting his lip while Jackson seemed to only get larger before his eyes.

“Are you okay, hyung?”

Mark startled, looking up at Jackson with wide eyes. Jackson must have misinterpreted the look because his hands were soon on Mark’s shoulders.

“Seriously, Mark-hyung, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I’m totally okay with letting you be on the receiving end. I’ll even let you fuck my mouth, if you want.”

Mark stifled a groan at the thought, his growing erection digging into the mattress beneath him. Yet, as fucking hot as that sounded, Mark said he was going to take care of Jackson so he was going to stay by his word. He wasn’t so fickle, and he certainly wasn’t so inconsiderate as to only take from Jackson. 

“I’m okay,” Mark said in unsteady Korean. He let Jackson guide his hand toward his cock and smoothed it over the supple skin once before regaining his confidence. He pulled down the foreskin, watching as Jackson shuddered under him, and stretched out his tongue to lap directly at the tip. 

Jackson’s leg jolted. “Ah, Mark! It’s sensitive.”

“Sorry,” Mark winced. He just began, and he was already messing up. He lowered his head, mostly out of shame, as he decided to begin at the base. He licked up the shaft, using his saliva to reduce the friction as he stroked Jackson a few times. He stared at the reddening head of Jackson’s cock again, fascinated. 

“Mm, you’re doing good, hyung,” Jackson hummed appreciatively. That gave Mark enough motivation to continue. He supported himself on his hands as he positioned over the length and took it into his mouth. He sucked him down until he felt Jackson’s glans against his palate and then drew back up. 

He repeated the motions, using his hands to cover the distance his mouth couldn’t. Jackson was moaning above him, and it was music to his ears. He took the chance to glance up through his still damp bangs and almost choked. Jackson was already staring straight at him, head tilted against the pillows as he gazed upon Mark as if he were a piece of priceless treasure. Mark blushed up to his ears at the intensity of Jackson’s eyes and lowered his own eyes to the cock before him. He sucked off with a pop. 

Mark didn’t understand why he was sporting a full erection in his pants when he had another guy’s dick in his mouth, but the fact that it was Jackson’s dick was probably 99 percent of the reason. He let the lust guide his actions, employing Jackson’s whispered commentary as a sign that he was doing a good job, and his confidence grew. He licked down the underside of Jackson’s cock until he reached his balls. He felt Jackson twitch under him as he swirled his tongue around him, sucking one into his mouth. Jackson smelled like soap and tasted like nothing, but the filthy part of Mark’s mind wondered what scent the man would emanate after a long day of practice. 

Mark felt a hand in his hair, guiding him back up to Jackson’s neglected cock. Precum had beaded at the tip in his absence, giving a fitting welcome. Mark simply licked it up, tasting a prelude to Jackson’s seed. He closed his eyes contentedly, feeling the sharp flavor seep into his taste buds. Inspired, Mark tipped his head forward, taking Jackson back into his mouth and not stopping until his nose was buried in Jackson’s pubic hair. 

Jackson groaned long and low. It was something deeply primal that had Mark’s own cock straining. He was forced to reach a hand down to palm his front when the need became too much, eliciting a moan that vibrated his vocal chords against Jackson’s cock. Jackson’s hips jerked up, and Mark almost gagged. He felt tears sting his eyes as he struggled to focus on breathing slowly through his nose. But he couldn’t keep it down anymore. He quickly lifted off Jackson’s cock, wet and sloppy, and coughed to clear his throat of the strange viscous feeling inside of it. He sniffled, evacuating the snot that had built up when he choked. 

“Mark—shit sorry, but fuck, that was amazing,” Jackson exhaled, chest heaving up and down. “I think I almost came just then.”

“That’s the goal,” Mark giggled, nevertheless pleased with himself. He wiped a stray tear with the heel of his palm. 

“Mark-ah, are you okay though?” Jackson asked, concern striking his features. He moved to sit up, but Mark just pushed him back down. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just not used to it.” He straddled over Jackson’s hips, his erection brushing Jackson’s through the fabric. “Should we do something we’re more accustomed to?”

Jackson’s eyes widened, wondering if Mark suddenly remembered that drunken night they shared together. “You mean—?”

But Mark only brought his erection out of his boxers to slide against Jackson’s, rubbing the two lengths together with the aid of his hand. It was ridiculous for him to assume that Mark had miraculously remembered everything when he said he had no memory. It was wishful thinking, sure, and he hated being unable to talk about it with Mark since talking is what he did best when he had worries. He always brought it up with the person in question, faced the problem head on, but this time, he couldn’t. 

Jackson hid his disappointment in a broken breath that soon became legitimate when he saw Mark’s flushed face. Mark was leaning over Jackson’s body, muscles flexing with the tension, and the position was so manly and dominating that it had Jackson’s heart pounding like a virgin. He subconsciously extended his arm towards Mark’s nape, bringing his lips closer until they were breathing into each other’s mouth. Jackson was prepared to close his eyes and lean forward for that kiss, but Mark had just as quickly turned his head so that his lips were ghosting over Jackson’s cheek. A second wave of disappointment ripped through Jackson’s chest, clawing at his heart until he felt like he was bleeding internally. 

Instead of whining about it like he would have if the situation was far less serious, he pretended he was unaffected, nabbing Mark’s ear between his teeth and biting gently. His hands roughly swiped down Mark’s body, landing on his hips. He prodded his fingers under the waistband of Mark’s pants that were, for whatever reason, still present and pulled them down to his knees. Mark took the hint and kicked them the rest of the way off. Jackson likewise took the opportunity to remove his own boxers and shrug the robe off his shoulders. 

Mark sat back on Jackson’s lap with his thighs spread, watching quietly as Jackson threw the robe off the bed. Jackson felt the pressure of those eyes raking down his body and leaving him bare. Not wanting to lose, he grabbed Mark’s ass and dragged him forward until their erections crashed together again. The hoarse moan Mark let out as he fell against Jackson’s chest was utterly beautiful. The fact that it was _his_ cock that had ravaged Mark’s throat to this point only added to the thrill.

Jackson’s fingers were exploratory on the unmapped globes of Mark’s ass, venturing toward the medial space between his cheeks. When the pad of his index finger pressed against Mark’s rim, the older male jerked up, almost colliding into Jackson’s chin. 

“Jackson!” Mark exclaimed in surprise. He stared at him questioningly as if asking if they were really going to do this.

“Only if you want to,” Jackson reassured but with bated breath. 

Mark seemed to seriously consider it, and that only had Jackson admiring him more, loving how he always took Jackson’s words seriously even when others would assume that he was just joking or messing around. 

“Okay,” Mark finally said, low voice gravelly, “but only fingering, please. I don’t think I can take _that_ up my ass without any…um…real lubricant.”

Jackson beamed. “Of course! Anything you want.”

Jackson brought his fingers up to his mouth, sucking around his own digits to get them wet. Mark followed the movements like a hawk, his gaze intense on what was soon going to be entering him from behind. Mark rolled his hips forward in anticipation, cock dropping against Jackson’s stomach as he raised his ass up into the air. Jackson brought his fingers back around, pressing his index finger in to the first knuckle. Mark squirmed above him at the intruder, his labored breaths hitting Jackson’s shoulder.

Jackson continued, reaching in deeper until his whole finger was inside. It felt way too tight and the friction wasn’t comfortable on even the skin of his finger. The friction didn’t feel anything like this the first time they tried it, and Jackson was bewildered as to what was different. Was it simply due to Jackson’s ample use of lube their first time? Or was it something else… The pressure of Mark’s muscles could not have increased so rapidly…right? Jackson had read that arousal made women looser, so if the same applied to men… Then did Mark not feel the same passion as when he was drunk? Had something changed between them?

“Mark? Are you okay?” Jackson felt the head leaning on his shoulder nod, but he still sensed that something was very off. In fact, his empathy caused _him_ to be in pain at Mark’s distress. “Seriously, hyung. Look at me.”

Mark lifted his head, lips red from where his teeth were embedded into the flesh. His teary eyes gave him away in a heartbeat. 

“Shit, you aren’t okay,” Jackson cursed. “Fuck it. I’m taking it out.”

“W-wait.” Jackson paused at the sound of Mark’s watery voice. “Do it s-slow, please.”

Jackson made a sound of affirmation, eyebrows knitted in concentration. He drew his finger out gradually, placing kisses on the crown of Mark’s head, whispering sweet words of how well he was doing. When it was finally out, Mark collapsed on top of him, surprising Jackson with his persistent erection.

“You’re still okay down there?” Jackson asked, astonished. 

“Of course. That was nothing,” Mark grinned with faux confidence. “You’re lying so complacently underneath me. Why wouldn’t I be hard?” Mark rutted his cock against the divot where Jackson’s thigh met his pelvis. He frowned suddenly. “But I see that you aren’t anymore.”

“I don’t like seeing you in pain, hyung.” Jackson looked at the finger that was formerly inside of Mark and gasped audibly. “Oh fuck. I’m so sorry. I-I can’t believe I… I shouldn’t have let this happen. I just—!”

“What is it?”

“Mark, you’re bleeding.”

“I am?” Mark wondered calmly. He turned to observe the tiny speckle of blood dotting Jackson’s fingertip.

“You don’t feel it?!”

“I’m telling you I’m alright. I think I’m too turned on to really feel it right now. Uh, I’ll be right back though, ‘kay?”

Jackson was too stunned to respond, so Mark got up off the bed and left to the bathroom. Although things were not as easy as before, Mark was still highly aroused. That had to count for something, right? Jackson leaned over to grab a tissue from the nightstand and wiped off his finger. Strangely enough, it didn’t repulse him to have someone else’s blood on him. Maybe that was because it belonged to Mark; it used to be a part of him, after all. And Jackson had torn that bit of him away. He had sworn that he would never forgive himself for hurting Mark, and now he had done just that.

Mark returned then with a small white bottle, delighted smile on his face and bouncing cock between his legs. 

“Jackson-ah, don’t beat yourself over it too much.”

“What’s that?” Jackson asked, sitting up against the pillows to gesture at the bottle.

“Lotion,” Mark responded, waving his hand in front of the product like a TV salesman. 

“You still want to try?”

Mark nodded earnestly, positioning himself over Jackson once again. He sprawled over Jackson’s body, fitting their cocks together between them. He spread his legs as wide as he could and tucked his head under Jackson’s chin for comfort. His face rested against Jackson’s chest, and his body rose and fell with Jackson’s lungs. 

As Jackson squirted the fragrant lotion onto his fingers, rubbing them together to warm it up as much as he could, Mark tried to focus his mind. His true purpose from all of this was to figure out what anal sex would feel like with Jackson. He wanted to compare the sensation to his dream and ascertain whether or not Jackson had lied to him. He couldn’t believe that his subconscious would have the imaginative capacity to recreate such a feeling through a dream no less, without prior experience. 

Although his end goal was basically a fuck, Mark had to also maintain the balance of their relationship. Along with not appearing too easy and remaining physically intact, Mark was tasked with keeping his feelings in check. In his early teens he had oft overheard his mom warning his sisters about the feelings of attachment that came with sex so that they would the treasure their bodies and only give themselves to loving partners. Mark figured being on the receiving end of a gay…arrangement…would be similar, and well, it definitely did not help that his emotions were already bursting at the seams of his heart. If this didn’t work out… Really, he’d rather not think about that outcome. At the end of the day, he would still want to be Jackson’s friend.

“Ready?” Jackson asked, ever attentive as he snapped Mark back to the present.

“Mhmm,” Mark hummed as he pressed his hips back against Jackson’s waiting hand. 

“Steady there,” Jackson said with a smile as he stared up into Mark’s eyes. He gently nudged his finger at the ring of muscles more gently than the first time, encouraging Mark to breathe at each centimeter. By the time his whole finger was in, Mark was desperate for another, eager to please.

“Jackson, please,” he begged, biting at his lip.

“You think you can handle it, baby?” Jackson’s voice was low, riding a tone that made Mark’s stomach do weird flips. The pet name made it worse.

“Yes, yes, please,” he insisted. 

Jackson pressed his middle finger against the waiting hole. He paused for Mark to relax enough to push past his resistance. The ease in was less difficult this time around, as Mark had swiftly gotten the swing of how to loosen his muscles.

Mark placed tiny licks at Jackson’s collarbones, occasionally biting at the skin when the friction became difficult on him. When the tip of Jackson’s middle finger brushed the base of his prostate, though, he unintentionally bit down hard enough that Jackson bucked up underneath him, their cocks colliding together. The pain faded as pleasure engulfed him. 

The moans that escaped the two were incredibly hot, and a rhythm developed between them. Mark swiveled his hips over Jackson’s as the younger plunged his fingers into his hole. Mark snuck a hand between their abdomens, capturing their erections in his grip. He used the precum that had gathered at his tip to lubricate the slide as he stroked them off. 

“Shit, that’s so sexy,” Jackson murmured, feeling Mark’s wetness against his own cock.

Mark had to move his body upwards for the position to work so that now they stared each other in the eye. Their noses brushed together at random intervals, and the tension only seemed to rise. Mark let his eyelids flutter shut, increasing his sensitivity to Jackson’s warm breath across his lips, the pressure around his cock, and the probing ecstasy inside of him. He never knew that anal fingering would feel so damn good, but somehow it didn’t feel as unfamiliar as it should. 

“Ahhn…Jackson I’m close,” Mark whispered.

“Then come, baby,” Jackson replied, matching Mark’s stare through his lashes as he deepened each press of his fingers to stroke over Mark’s gland. 

Mark shivered bodily, releasing Jackson’s cock to solely grab his own. The pleasure was so intense, rolling through him in waves, that he could hardly control his own actions. He collapsed onto Jackson’s chest, his head tucked beside Jackson’s neck, as he rutted the glans of his cock against Jackson’s abdomen and stroked the rest of his length with his hand. It was a mess: Mark doing whatever he could to seek pleasure from Jackson’s body, resorting to animalistic instinct as he was overcome by the sensation. When he finally came, it was squirted all over Jackson’s stomach, painting his body with hot white streaks. 

Mark panted hard, fingers of his free hand uncurling from where they had somehow wound up embedded in Jackson’s skin. He lifted his head to face Jackson, a little shamefully.

“Sorry I came first,” he said sheepishly, “even though I said I wanted to just do you.”

“Can’t help that I’m so hot that you lost control,” Jackson said smugly. 

“Shut up,” Mark retorted, but there was no malice in his voice. He kissed at Jackson’s cheek before bringing his lips to his ear. He sucked at the lobe teasingly. “Now will you let me swallow your cum?”

“Mark!” Jackson gasped in surprise. 

“What?” Mark asked innocently. “I’m just repaying the favor.”

“I think that costs more than the favor,” Jackson said skeptically.

“But I want to,” Mark pouted cutely, jutting out his lip in a way that he knew really got to Jackson.

“I really hope you’ve never begged for anyone else’s like that,” Jackson muttered bitterly under his breath, but Mark caught the words as they slipped out. He didn't know how to take it.

“Just you,” Mark chose to reassure, patting his chest, before he slid down Jackson’s body. He grabbed Jackson’s cock and slipped his length straight into his mouth. He sucked down with renewed fervor, recklessly taking him too deep down his throat repeatedly. It wasn’t long before Jackson was tugging at Mark’s hair, telling him to get off, but Mark staunchly refused. In fact, he only sucked harder. Jackson cursed something foul when Mark doubled his intensity, hips lurching up into Mark’s heat without restraint. 

Mark was pulling up when Jackson came with a hardly muffled shout, filling his mouth with viscous fluid. The first spurt rocketed to the back of his throat, almost making him gag, but Mark quickly relaxed his throat, taking Jackson back down. Mark could taste what landed on his tongue, but the rest traveled straight down his esophagus. Jackson’s cock twitched against his tongue, and Mark’s eyes turned up to watch Jackson, studying how his spit-slicked lips vaguely trembled. Jackson turned his gaze downward and caught Mark watching him, his cock still in his mouth.

“Fuck, Mark,” Jackson let his head fall back against the pillows, resigned. “You’re too much.”

Mark hummed, sucking still as he pulled off of Jackson, feeling another weak spurt grace his tongue. Jackson whined at the overstimulation, shoving at Mark’s forehead weakly. Mark couldn’t help but smile as he relented, letting Jackson’s wet cock fall out of his mouth. 

“Did you like it?” Mark asked as he came up to lie beside Jackson on the side that didn’t have his ejaculate drying on Jackson’s skin. 

“More than that, Mark…that was incredible,” Jackson breathed out. He reached up to run his fingers through Mark’s bangs. “I loved it. You were amazing.”

Mark beamed. “We should probably clean up, though, before this all dries.”

“Okay, but like, this stuff,” Jackson gestured at his stomach, “is all yours.”

“Are you suggesting that you want to clean it up like I did for you?” Mark asked, fingers prodding at Jackson’s lips, pressing them open. Jackson squinted at him, not really refusing, so Mark scooped up a bit of the fluid and introduced it into Jackson’s expectant mouth. Mark’s heart was pounding with how seductive this image was: Jackson tasting his seed. The younger wrapped his tongue around Mark’s digit tentatively. 

“Ack!” he reeled back instantly. His face scrunched up. “Ew, no! I don’t know how you did this.”

“What do you mean?” Mark asked, offended. “It can’t be that bad. I swallowed all of yours.”

“I don’t think I can do it,” Jackson admitted dramatically. “Although, you know, mine might also taste better because I eat healthier.”

Mark frowned, sitting up. “But I eat plenty of fruits. I think it’s just your tongue.”

“Oh?” Jackson cocked an eyebrow. “You want to have a taste then?”

“If that’s how I need to prove it to you.” Mark crossed his arms. He stared at Jackson’s challenging gaze. “Fine.”

He lowered his body, nose pressed to Jackson’s skin as his tongue darted out to lick his own fluid. It was thicker, tasting more of protein, but it wasn’t as awful as Jackson claimed. He lapped over the ridges of Jackson’s faintly defined abs, cleaning him until there was nothing left.

“See?” Mark lifted his head. “It tastes fine.”

As soon as their eyes met, Jackson’s dark with lust, Jackson was on him, pushing him down into the bed and trapping his head by the base of his skull to press a kiss firmly onto his lips. Jackson’s lips were intense, stealing Mark’s air like a drowning man. It was abrupt; it was new. Yet, despite all that, the kiss was hardly messy. It was as if this was exactly what they were meant to be doing in bed together post orgasmic bliss.

Jackson claimed Mark’s mouth, tonguing open his lips to lick inside while Mark was still dazed by the abrupt turn of events. It felt unreal, kissing Jackson like that. God, he could do this for hours. Kissing Jackson like this… Wait a fuck—! He was kissing _Jackson_! Suddenly realizing what was happening, Mark cried out against his lips, and Jackson jolted backwards as if coming out of a trance. They both paled instantly.

“Sorry—oh my god—that was really sudden I—!”

“I thought you said I tasted gross,” Mark said, eyes shifting down as he tried to divert the subject to something more playful. However, his tone didn’t quite match what he intended, and the words came out petulant. 

But he wasn’t really thinking about that. He could still feel the ghost of Jackson’s lips on his like a burn across his skin. He treasured the refreshing hint of mint that cleared his mouth of the heady taste of semen. It was over all too soon, and he wasn’t wrong when he foresaw that he would only want more. 

“Well, it’s not _that_ bad when it’s coming from here,” Jackson retorted, running his thumb over Mark’s bottom lip. In such close proximity, Mark couldn’t help but stare at Jackson. His gaze was heavy as his body’s weight held him down against the mattress. 

“Suit yourself,” Mark responded lowly. 

With all the hormones rushing through his blood, he knew he shouldn’t, he really did, but he strained upward to reciprocate the kiss. He felt every bit of Jackson’s lips against his own, less plush and rougher than a girl’s, but with them came a yearning for more that was undeniable. Their cocks were soft by this point, but the heat boiling between them was as hot as ever.

Mark’s fingers came up to dance along the acromion of Jackson’s shoulders, roaming around his back until he felt the trails of scabbing tissue. His chest constricted until he could hardly breathe.

“Who did this?” Mark leaned back to ask, curiosity and something fouler taking root deep in his gut.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jackson brushed off. He sought out Mark’s lips, but Mark turned his head to the side.

“It does matter,” Mark said, but Jackson looked at him with that conflicted expression that Mark knew was practically impossible to budge. It showed how Jackson felt _sorry_ that he couldn’t tell, but you would be a fool to assume that meant he would crack under pressure. If anything, that expression hid a secret Jackson would never dare part with. “I need to know if you’re with someone else, if I’m helping you cheat or something.”

“You aren’t,” Jackson soothed, raking his fingers through Mark’s hair. “I’m only doing these things with you right now.”

“Then why can’t you tell me?” _and what the hell constituted as ‘right now’?_

“It’s just…not something I can say…right now.”

_Again with the ‘right now.’_

“Then when can you?”

“I don’t know yet. I want to test something first, but I don’t know how long it will take.”

“Fine, be that way,” Mark dismissed, reaching over to turn off the light. He never knew Jackson to be this calculating and cautious, and he wasn’t sure if he liked this side of him. “Good night.”

As soon as the bedside lamp switched off, Mark half-expected Jackson to return back to his bed. However, when he sank deeper into the mattress at the loss of Jackson’s weight on the bed, the disappointment that nevertheless rocked through him was pitiable. He watched Jackson walk into the hallway to turn off the main light in the room. When the room was plunged in darkness, Mark couldn’t trace where Jackson was anymore. So he rolled over, closer to the window, as he tried to forget the strange feeling of neglect freezing his lungs. It really is not that foreign of a feeling anymore after watching Jackson parade his overflowing affections around the other members while blatantly ignoring him, but this situation continued to twist the serrated knife buried in his chest. Mark blamed the rush of oxytocin.

Just as he was closing his eyes, feeling a hot tear grow cold as it ran down the bridge of his nose, the mattress shifted up under him. A hand sought him out in the darkness, and he heard Jackson humming as he situated himself. It was too soon for Mark to pull off pretending to be asleep, but it didn’t matter anyway as Jackson pulled his body flush against him. He could feel Jackson’s breaths against his hairline, the heat radiating from his chest; he was hyperaware of all the places where Jackson’s naked skin met his own.

In a brief moment of relief, Mark breathed in contentedly through his nose, inadvertently causing a sniffle to echo through the room. Mark froze, hoping that Jackson hadn’t heard it or that he would assume it was allergies.

“Mark, are you okay? You sound like you’re crying.”

Damn it.

“I’m not. It’s just al--” Mark attempted to respond, but his voice broke halfway, giving his act up.

“Mark-ah, tell me why you’re crying. Let me help you.”

Mark shook his head, so Jackson blindly reached out a hand to wipe away his tears. It took a few tries and almost a finger up the nose before Jackson finally found his eyes.

“Come on, I want to help you feel better. If you’re sad then I’m sad.”

“It’ll make you feel worse if I tell you. Let’s just get some sleep. We have a long...day tomorrow.” Mark yawned.

“Whatever you say.” Jackson knew better than to push Mark when he refused to speak so he settled on running his fingers through Mark’s hair as he drifted off. A few minutes passed in silence while Jackson listened to Mark’s uneven breathing steady.

“Jackson?” Mark whispered uncertainly.

“You’re still awake?”

“Yeah.” There was a lot of weight in that single syllable.

“Did you want to say something?”

“Yeah.”

“What is it?”

Mark mumbled something that Jackson couldn’t quite hear. 

“What was that?”

“I’m afraid…”

“Afraid of what? Nothing here is going to hurt you. If there is, I’ll protect you.”

“I’m afraid of you…l-leaving me.”

“I would never.”

“For someone else, Jackson…don’t ever leave me for someone else.”

 

A low staccato buzz under tinkling bright tones woke Mark from his slumber. He rolled over to turn off his phone alarm, but his arm collided with something that vaguely felt like a face. He opened his eyes blearily, blinking a few times before he recognized where he was and whose disgruntled mug was staring back at him.

“Good morning to you too,” Jackson groaned, snuggling back into the pillow. “Now turn off that damn alarm.”

“It’s on your side,” Mark complained.

“Then just reach over me. I don’t know where your phone is.” Jackson shut his eyes resolutely.

Mark sighed, bringing himself up on one arm to stretch over Jackson’s body to grab his phone off the nightstand. Just as Mark pressed the stop button, Jackson’s fingers darted out to dig into his sides, effectively hitting his tickle spots. Mark felt the strength leave his arms, falling onto Jackson’s chest in a fit of giggles. He indistinctly felt Jackson’s morning wood dig into the soft spot by his hips, but he was currently far too preoccupied with the fingers tickling his waist. Yet, as he tensed up, he accidentally clenched his torn insides, sending a fresh jolt of pain through his system.

“Jackson—ah! Stop! It hurts!” Mark panted out, but Jackson only trapped his wiggling legs with his own. This lasted for what felt like eternity before Jackson finally relented, bellowing out a laugh. There were tears in Mark’s eyes and his cheeks were flushed pink. “Oh god. I feel like I almost died.”

“Don’t be overdramatic,” Jackson rolled his eyes, fingers ghosting over Mark’s skin. “I wouldn’t let you die.”

Jackson’s words from the fan meeting suddenly flashed back in Mark’s mind, how he would choose to save Jinyoung instead of him, and he suddenly became very aware of how nude they were in this position, especially of how exposed he felt. Mark quickly sat up, ignoring the pain that this action caused, hopping out of the bed and turning around.

“Where are you going?” Jackson asked, blearily. “Keep me company.”

“We need to get ready,” Mark replied simply, picking up and putting on his pajama pants that had fallen off the bed last night. He pulled the elastic over his partial erection, mentally willing it to go down. “You better be out of bed when I get back.”

Mark headed for the bathroom to brush his teeth. He squirted too much toothpaste on his brush, he brushed too hard at his teeth, but his anger didn’t subside even as Jackson meandered into the bathroom to wrap his arms around his waist and press his erection along the crack of his ass. 

“How about a quickie?” Jackson begged, staring at him cutely in the mirror.

“Do it yourself.”

“Aww, hyung, please?” Jackson wiggled around behind him. 

“Why are you so damn horny all the time?” Mark grumbled. “You’re like a dog in heat.”

“Hey, I had to sleep next to your hot naked ass all night. Do you expect me to wake up _without_ a reaction?”

“I don’t know. You don’t see me complaining.”

“Let me eat you out, then. All you’ll have to do is stand there.”

“You won’t taste my semen, but you’ll taste my asshole?” Mark asked skeptically. 

“That’s different,” Jackson whined. “I’m sure you’re clean. You’ve only had lotion up there anyway.”

“There’s no way that lotion tastes good,” Mark deadpanned.

“Then I’ll clean you first, but pleeease?”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Fine, but I have to finish brushing my teeth and washing my face.”

“No problem! I’ll just get started,” Jackson said excitedly, bouncing up and down. 

Jackson wet a small hand towel and knelt down behind him. He shimmied Mark’s pants down to his knees and the fabric fell the rest of the way down. Mark kicked it off of his feet and back into the main room. His skin, warm from sleep, erupted in goose bumps under the cool morning air.

Mark jolted, almost biting the plastic stick of his toothbrush in half as Jackson wiped at his rim first with the rough fibers of the towel. After the pleasure of last night was gone, Mark was reminded of the tears lining his interior. 

“Jackson, it hurts,” Mark whimpered. 

“Oh shit you’re right. You still have blood down here. I think it’s all dried though. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard yesterday.”

Jackson withdrew the towel. 

“No. Keep going. Just...don’t use that towel, please.”

Jackson hesitantly used his finger to probe into his body. It was not long before the discomfort faded into the background. Mark had begun associating the stretch with a feeling of pleasure, and the arousal that strummed through his body was surprising to say the least. 

Spitting out his toothpaste, Mark rinsed off the bristles of the brush with shaky hands. He splashed water over his face and grabbed his bottle of face wash. He had to bite down a moan as Jackson plunged in deeper while he diligently rubbed at his face with the foaming soap. He scrubbed his face harder than usual and rushed to wash the lather off. Mark leaned into the counter to press down his hardening cock as he reached for a clean towel to dry his face.

By the end, Jackson had his fingers inside of Mark’s water-wet hole to clean the rest of the way and Mark had most likely missed a spot as he moisturized his skin. 

“Hyung, are you done?” Jackson asked. “Can I start?”

“Y-yeah,” Mark stammered. 

“Perfect, but first let’s go into the hallway.”

“The hall—?” Mark was confused, way too turned on to manage complex thoughts anyway.

“Come on. You’ll love it.”

Jackson guided him out of the bathroom and into the hall, toward the floor-length mirror that decorated the wall adjacent to the main door. Mark stood, facing his reflection who was equally baffled. Jackson, meanwhile, dropped down onto his knees behind him. He grabbed Mark’s hips as he plunged his tongue straight into Mark’s hole. Mark tipped forward, hands flying to grab at the wall beside the frame of the mirror. His breath fogged over the clear surface as Jackson licked into him, spreading saliva all across his interior. Compared to a finger, Jackson’s tongue was softer, hotter. Mark could feel Jackson’s warm breaths fanning across his posterior. The wet sounds were almost too much for Mark’s sanity. However, it was more of the finger Jackson added along with the thickness of his tongue that shattered Mark’s restraint.

“Ahhn…Jackson-ah…nnngh fuck me—ah!” Mark moaned out, eyes closed. He subconsciously spread his knees wider apart so that Jackson could reach in deeper. And, god, did he understand that motion, pushing a second finger in so deep that it brushed against Mark’s prostate. Mark mewled at that, loud and high-pitched, voice cracking as he shuddered.

“Are you close, hyung?” Jackson removed his tongue to ask. He kissed at Mark’s stretched out rim.

“Y-yes! Please! Jackson, don’t stop.

“Should I add another finger or my tongue?”

Mark gasped at just the thought. “Both! I don’t know. I don’t care. Just please— _please_ —make me cum. Just let me, please. I need to.”

In the midst of his rambling, Mark felt a third finger knocking at his entrance. He held his breath as Jackson fit the tip in, slowly straightening out his finger to meet the others inside of him. As soon as it was in, Mark released his breath, contented with how full he was. 

When Jackson started pushing and pulling those fingers within him, however, that tranquility was slashed to lust. Mark lurched forward and the tip of his cock pressed into the cold surface of the mirror. The shocking temperature difference had him jolting back onto Jackson’s fingers, and his head flew back as Jackson hit his prostate again. 

“Mark-ah, _look_ …in the mirror,” Jackson panted strangely. The tone would have been enough to spike Mark’s curiosity, but the order while he was in this blissed out state had him obeying easily. His eyes flickered open. He stared first at himself, with his blushing features and unfocused eyes, but a slick sound had him glancing down towards his feet. There, between his legs, he saw Jackson stroking himself off with his free hand while his other, the one that Mark clearly felt inside of him, was out of sight.

Then, Jackson reintroduced his tongue inside of Mark, slicking up his insides as his fingers reached in deeper. The assault against his prostate, the tantalizing visual, and the sounds produced from it all had Mark teetering over the edge. His eyes were trained on the hand rushing over Jackson’s length with his personal rhythm, squeezing with the perfect amount of pressure that Mark could imagine on his own cock. As Jackson pressed in again and again, deep and intense, a wave of pleasure peaked within Mark and a sudden tremor coursed through his body. It surprised even himself. He squeezed around Jackson’s fingers as semen dribbled out of his cock untouched. It slid over the glans and trailed down towards the ground. 

“Mark?” Jackson questioned, eyes wide at the revelation of Mark’s newfound ability. He tightened his fist around his cock to keep from ejaculating right there and then. He reached in deeper, targeting Mark’s prostate again, and another surge of fluid escaped, splattering onto the hardwood with little strength as Mark cried out obscenely loud.

Jackson repeatedly pressed against Mark’s gland, seeming to control each weak spurt of ejaculate that drooled onto the floor with the excitement of a kid with a new toy, until Mark’s legs gave out. Mark fell onto his sore ass, leaning feebly against Jackson’s broad body while the latter jerked himself off with his fingers still trembling inside. A few strokes and his seed shot out onto Mark’s back. Jackson mouthed along the expanse of Mark’s neck as he came down from his high. He gently removed his fingers from Mark’s clenching hole.

“Mark, I didn’t know you could do that,” Jackson said breathlessly, in awe. The smile on his face was insanely wide. “That was so hot. I can’t even believe…”

“What can I say? I’m a fast learner,” Mark grinned lazily. “But I can’t either actually. That was my first.”

“How are you feeling?” Jackson murmured into his skin. He was a little too happy at Mark’s admission and had to hide his pleased smile behind the elder’s shoulder.

“Exhausted,” Mark grumbled, resting his head back against Jackson. This foreign orgasm had drained him of his energy, and yet a tingling sensation still persisted within him, sparking his arousal every time he moved, even though Jackson’s fingers have long since evacuated. 

“I meant about what we just did, silly.”

“Oh…that was um…really something.” Mark had a hard time finding the right words.

“Would you want to do it again?” Jackson pressed.

Mark turned his eyes up to study Jackson’s expression in the mirror. “Do you mean like…with this inside of me?” He touched Jackson’s softening cock behind him with his fingertips.

Jackson let out a groan at the touch, eyebrows cinching. “I-I didn’t…I mean, not like that—um…okay yeah, actually, yes,” he relented, “but only if you want to.”

“On two conditions.” Mark’s reflected gaze was steady.

“What’s that?”

“First, we don’t mention this to the other members, ever.”

“Okay…and?”

“We do this exclusively.”

“That’s not a problem.”

“ _So_ ,” Mark continued, “that means you have to tell me who left those scratch marks on your back.”

“I can’t—.” Jackson began when there was suddenly a knock on the door that startled them out of their peaceful moment. They both rapidly stood up, Mark racing to the bathroom and Jackson toward the beds.

“Mark-hyung? Jackson-ah? Are you awake?” Jaebum called through the door. “We’re leaving in five.”

“Yeah, we’ll be out soon!” Mark yelled back, heart hammering in his ears at the risk of almost getting caught. 

He listened keenly for the sound of Jaebum shuffling away from the door before he could relax. Mark banged his head against the doorframe as he regulated his breathing. It was okay. No one had seen them. No one had heard them. It was going to be another busy day of filming and interviewing, of ignoring Jackson’s rampant affection and pretending everything was all right.

“Gaga,” Mark called out toward the bedroom sweetly. “Could you come wipe your semen off of my back for me?”

Jackson came waddling back to the bathroom sheepishly. He wet a washcloth without complaint and set to work.

“But really, Jackson-ah, when will you trust me enough to tell me?”

“Give me some time, please. I…I still haven’t figured out how I’m going to tell you everything.” Jackson could only hang his head, avoiding Mark’s gaze in the mirror. “But I promise I will.”

 

 

“What’s your ideal type?” the interviewer asked. He was a man on the smaller side with a handsome but forgettable face.

 _This question again…_ It seems they always ask the same questions thinking that they’ll get a different response. It was twenty minutes in and the question structure was so similar that Mark shifted to autopilot. He hadn’t gotten enough sleep last night after messing around with Jackson when they had already arrived back late from the concert, and he was still a little groggy. It didn’t help that all he could think about was the memory of Jackson’s lips on his. He already missed it.

“Mark-san?”

“Ah, um someone who makes me want to be with her,” Mark repeated the same answer he always gave.

“Mark-hyung is such a romantic,” Jinyoung commented.

“You don’t have any specific traits that you like?”

“Uh… I like a girl who can eat well?” he suggested.

“You want a girl who can eat as much as you?” Bambam joked. “Half your paycheck would be gone on food every month.”

“Mark-hyung always eats two lunch trays where everyone else eats one,” Jinyoung explained graciously to the interviewer. “He eats a lot considering how thin he is.”

“Ahh, I see. He is really thin. So…nothing else? Ideal height?” the interviewer pressed.

“I don’t…” Mark began.

“7’3”?” Jackson suggested.

Mark rolled his eyes. “No, shorter than me.”

“I’m shorter than you,” the interviewer pointed out with a laugh.

Mark was dumbfounded for a moment before he made a heart above his head with his arms, awkward smile plastered over his lips.

“Hey, I’m shorter than you too,” Jackson grabbed his elbow, making cute faces to get his attention. Mark just lowered his head to hide his blush.

“Alright,” the interviewer cleared his throat. “Next Jackson-san?”

“Um…”

Mark turned his attention to the one sitting next to him. It had made his heart flutter when Jackson came to sit in the back row by him. Now, his eyes followed how Jackson turned his head up to stare at the ceiling while he thought about his answer: the edge of his jaw, the line of his neck, and the bump of his Adam’s apple.

“I like a girl who is healthy.”

“Healthy?”

“Like someone who is tan, eats healthy, stays fit.”

“So Jackson likes a sporty girl,” the interviewer hurried along, “and Jinyoung-san?”

Mark’s focus drifted again. He used to be tan when he lived in California, but after adjusting to Korean standards, he lost his color. He thought he ate healthy, but Jackson was already complaining about that factor. Last night being case in point. And was he even athletic? Sure, he enjoyed engaging in extreme sports from time to time, but was that enough? He quit playing sports regularly since he became an idol, but that didn’t stop his and Jackson’s occasional basketball matches. He considered the amount of muscle on his body…

“Mark-hyung,” Jinyoung said. Mark snapped his head back up at the sound of his name. “He’s quiet but observant. He’s the type to notice when you’re feeling down and try to act silly to cheer you up.”

Mark looked around, confused as to what the question was and why they were talking about him. Really, he should know better than to function on so little sleep, but last night Jackson had been very…convincing.

“So he’s the kind supportive boyfriend? Okay, okay, we’re running out of time now. So quickly Jackson-san?” the interviewer asked.

“Jinyoung-ie because he is good at taking care of others. He’s like a mother hen.” 

Jinyoung now? Well that statement wasn’t wrong.

“And Mark-san? If you were a girl, which member would you date?”

Mark’s stomach dropped. He glanced over to his left helplessly, but no one was looking back. _Jackson had picked Jinyoung?_

“Um, uh, Jaebum.”

“Why’s that?”

“He’s good at making decisions.” 

“You’re indecisive?”

“Uh, something like that. And he’s manly,” Mark looked down at where his fingers were picking at the hole in his jeans. He bit at his lips in an effort to keep his face neutral. He really didn’t think it was working, but it didn’t matter. The time was ticking down until this was all over. He looked straight at the camera with a wide smile for their ending statement.

“Got7!” they shouted together.

The producer behind the camera raised her hand to signal the end of the broadcast. Mark leaned back in his chair and sighed. Never had he been more relieved to finish a show. He quickly gathered his things and made to leave. As he headed to the door, he stopped to bow at the staff, thanking them for their time and efforts. The interviewer caught him before he could exit the room. 

“Hey, Mark-san. Could I just call you Mark-kun?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. You’re older anyway. What’s up?”

“I was gathering the other guys for a little get together the night before you leave. Do you want to come along? There’ll be drinks and food and lots of lovely people to meet!”

“Um I don’t really drink,” Mark said slowly, edging toward the door. He had far too little sleep for this man’s boundless energy.

“Oh, no, no! It’s not just alcohol. Mocktails are my specialty, actually. Your manager gave me the go-ahead! It’s a totally private affair. No cameras or anything. What do you say?”

“Oh, okay then. That sounds fun,” Mark said politely. He fiddled with the hem of his jacket sleeve under the force of the awkward tension.

“Perfect! I can’t wait to see you there.”

“Yeah, see you.” He bowed his head as he walked out, completely missing the way Jackson’s eyes were boring into his receding form.

 

 

“What happened to my condition?” Mark growled, grabbing Jackson’s wrists where they were feeling up his chest. “You still haven’t told me the truth about those scratches.” 

Backstage, the set lights were low and he could just barely see the contours of the man inches from his face. Hidden away in a side corridor, the walls were lined with boxes and broken equipment. On one of these rickety tables, sat Mark, legs spread with Jackson grinding up in between them. With a mere seven minutes to spare between acts, time was counting down rapidly.

“How can you expect me to keep my hands to myself when you’re on stage looking like that? It makes me want to claim you so that no one else can even _consider_ making you theirs,” Jackson retorted, eyes devouring Mark’s smoky eyes, pink lips, and exposed arms, down to the growing bulge in the front of his black jeans. The words went straight to Mark’s crotch, alighting his body with a risky thrill. “And don’t act like you didn’t see how that interviewer was flirting with you the entire time. So you tell me. What happened to your exclusivity clause?”

“He was not, and it’s not like I returned his ‘advances’ anyway,” Mark pointed out.

“He personally invited you to his party to get you drunk,” Jackson spelled out for him. “What do you think he’s going to do to you once you’re totally wasted?”

“That’s not fair. You barely know him.”

“Exactly! And you don’t either!” Jackson’s hand on Mark’s upper thigh squeezed, and the elder released a shaky breath.

“O-our manager said it was okay.”

Jackson sighed, bringing his hands to rest on Mark’s hips. “The managers don’t know about your um alcohol-induced blackouts.”

“I already told him I don’t drink,” Mark mumbled, wondering why Jackson was choosing now to bring up such a delicate topic. It wasn’t like he _wanted_ the amnesia that stalked every glass of liquor to his brain. 

“That doesn’t mean he isn’t going to try.”

“Stop worrying. I’ll be safe. You’ll be there and the others will be too.”

“Okay, fine.” Jackson squinted. “But you still chose Jaebum-hyung.”

“When did I—?”

“At that fucking interview! You said you’d date _Im Jaebum_ ,” Jackson growled, pressing in angrily.

Mark scoffed. “And you chose Jinyoung. So what?”

“Jinyoung’s like the group’s mother. Jaebum, though…he’s not safe.”

“Not safe?” Mark laughed dryly. “What’s so bad about him? Jinyoung is just as…” he considered his vocabulary, “…seductive, if not more.”

“Then is that why you did that in the dressing room with Jinyoung? It’s not just Jaebum o-or…me. You’re falling for _his_ charms now too?”

“Why are you being so sensitive today? I did as much as you’ve ever done. Even less, in fact,” Mark bit back, glaring despite his obvious arousal. It was true that he had been trying to rile Jackson up all day, from feeling up Jinyoung’s thigh while they were getting their hair done to linking arms while they walked to the stage. Whether Jinyoung noticed his plan or just enjoyed the attention, Mark did not know. However, Jinyoung played along like no other, gracing Mark with heavy stares and reciprocated physical contact. It felt dangerous—to do this under Jackson’s watch—but Mark wanted to give the younger a taste of his own medicine. After Jackson had chosen Jinyoung during the interview, the bitterness of rejection transformed into a need to test Jackson’s boundaries, to force him into the same suffocating pain that Mark had experienced for the past few years. 

“But you were never this touchy before. It’s different if you do it.” There was a hint of begging in Jackson’s voice that Mark promptly made to ignore. He instead reached forward to slide his hands under Jackson’s shirt, feeling up the budding muscles. 

Mark’s fingers curled to claws as he scratched down Jackson’s front. “So it’s okay if you do it and not okay if I do it? What kind of hypocritical—?” He stopped himself. This was getting ridiculous, but the train was moving too fast for him to jump off. “What’s your fucking deal anyway? Since when did you get so damn jealous?”

“I’m not being jealous! You’re the one who said that you wanted exclusivity. Now you’re going back on your word? You always seem to say whatever’s on your mind and then _miraculously_ happen to forget _all_ about it the next day! Well, fine, if you don’t want me then let’s go back to when this didn’t mean anything. Does that sound good to you?” Jackson grabbed Mark’s nape, trapping his eyes on him. They stared each other down.

Mark could only look into Jackson’s cold eyes, as his face remained frozen at Jackson’s sudden outburst. The words tore at his heart, and he yelled at himself to deny this godforsaken plan. It would be impossible, he knew, to return to how things were, to watch Jackson day in and day out without ever being able to lay any claim on the man.

“It never meant anything in the first place,” he spat back instead, and fuck, did he hate himself. “There was never any _us_.”

“Great, then no conditions and no limits.”

“You said it,” Mark snarled, turning his head to bite into Jackson’s flesh just below the collar of his shirt. Jackson’s smell left him drunk for the rest of the night.

 

It was later that evening while Jackson was dry humping Mark until he was crying into his pillow, making an excellent show of the strength of his hips, that Mark suddenly remembered the words that had slipped out on this very bed while he was drifting off the night prior. 

_“I’m afraid…”_

_“Afraid of what? Nothing here is going to hurt you. If there is, I’ll protect you.”_

_“I’m afraid of you…l-leaving me.”_

_“I would never.”_

And he wondered how Jackson would dare to suggest such a wretched idea.

 

 

The rest of their week festered in this purgatory, days and nights spent without a romantic brush of hands or gentle press of lips. Everything was a power play, childish grappling to see who would break first. The others had even noticed the obvious strain as they pushed and pulled at each other’s nerves. The unlucky ones even ended up victim to the crossfire. Jackson clung to Jaebum like a lifeline and ground up on Jinyoung shamelessly; Mark, meanwhile, was never one to lose at a game. 

Even so, the tension ran so high between them. Every time they were alone, it always ended up with teeth or tongue or fingers delving into places out of sight. One night on the ride back to the hotel, Mark had slipped a hand into Jackson’s pants just as the latter was preparing to sleep. In the darkness of the backseat, Mark jerked Jackson off until he was panting into his neck pillow. As soon as they stepped out of the car, they didn’t speak to each other. 

It was nearing midnight and the night of the party hosted by the surprisingly well-known interviewer. Mark dressed in white and black with gold accessories. His cross necklace hung low on his chest. Jackson came out of the bathroom then, and his eyes didn’t seem able to leave the exposed skin of Mark’s waist revealed by the generous cutouts along the side of his thin white shirt. When his gaze did move, it only followed the line of Mark’s black ripped jeans down to his shoes.

“You need to get dressed soon.” Mark walked past him to get to the bathroom, amused at Jackson’s staring. There, he applied makeup, going a little heavier than he did normally. Under the low lights of night events, it was important to stand out, and tonight, it would be a lie if he said he didn’t have someone to impress, that person being the one changing in the next room. 

When Mark stepped out of the bathroom, Jackson was buckling his belt. Jackson so often wore boxy shirts over baggy pants that Mark forgot how fucking good he could look in a simple white button down and dress pants. He sucked in a breath to deliver more oxygen to his brain as Jackson’s eyes turned up to meet his.

“Ready?” Mark asked. 

“One second,” Jackson said, turning to rifle through Mark’s box of jewelry.

“What are you doing?” Mark asked, trusting him enough to not need to stop him.

Jackson came back holding a thick braided chain of chrome. “Wrist?” 

Mark held out his hand, and Jackson clasped the bracelet around his wrist. Once secured in place, Mark still held his arm out questioningly.

“But I’m wearing gold,” he stated but made no move to take off the bracelet.

“This’ll be your point piece then,” Jackson replied. 

Mark shrugged, secretly happy as he eyed the same piece of jewelry on Jackson’s opposite wrist. 

 

After arriving in the lobby, they found that Bambam was still upstairs getting ready.

“I swear that boy always makes us late.”

“Fashionably late, he’d say.”

The elevator dinged and six pairs of eyes turned toward the metal doors. Bambam stepped out in an overly extravagant coat, its sequins reflecting the ceiling lights in every direction. The Thai boy seemed to glow. 

“What?” Bambam asked when he noticed all of them staring at him.

“Why are you always so slow?” Jackson complained.

“This,” he gestured to his body, “takes time, hyung. Anyway, so why are you and Mark-hyung wearing couple outfits?”

“We aren’t,” Mark said quickly, shifting his hand with the bracelet behind him. 

“You say, but like you’re both—.”

“Okay, okay, let’s go. Our manager’s waiting outside,” Jackson steered Bambam toward the revolving doors. 

Mark stared at Jackson’s back. They were dressed in different styles, but he supposed the plain white and black of their wardrobe may have stood out against the colors and patterns of the other members. He played with the idea of Jackson dressing in such a way on purpose. 

 

They did, in fact, reach their destination late enough that people filled the venue to a decent density. After riding up an elevator and handing away their phones and cameras to a burly security guard at the door, they were guided deeper inside. Mark could already hear the heavy bass of some EDM track echoing through the walls. 

The interviewer himself, whose name Mark had long since forgotten, flung the door open to greet them himself. They said their hellos and wandered off toward their own separate destinations. Yugyeom instantly headed for the dance floor, and Bambam tagged along to cheer for him. Jaebum was drawn toward the food table. Youngjae, unsure of what to do or where to go, followed Jaebum. Mark had somehow lost Jinyoung and Jackson and was stuck spinning in circles to locate someone he recognized. 

A hand caught his elbow. Mark whipped around to see the interviewer staring up at him.

“Mark-kun! I’m glad you could make it! How about I mix you up a drink? I’ll put in minimal alcohol, promise. It’s just for the kick.”

“Sure,” Mark said, willing for anything to do. At events like these, he always stuck out like a sore thumb, awkwardly hugging the walls of the establishment while people seemed to have the time of their lives around him. Mark trailed after the man as he led him toward the bar. Mark sat on the stool, and the man hopped behind the counter. Mark watched idly as he made a show of stirring together some colorful drink.

“Voila!” 

A bright red cocktail was placed in front of him. Mark wet his lips before bringing the glass to his mouth. He sniffed tentatively but couldn’t smell any alcohol. As the drink slipped over his tongue, the fruity taste of strawberries exploded across his taste buds, cut by the tartness of pomegranates and lime…and something else. Maybe that was the supposed kick?

Mark smacked his lips a few times, and the aftertaste was just as good.

“It’s delicious,” he said finally, and the words were genuine. He was unable to help himself from indulging in another gulp, and the warming fizz of the cool drink filled his awaiting mouth. “What’s in it?”

The man winked at him, leaning over the counter clandestinely. “That’s a secret. This is my specialty so I can’t give away the recipe so easily.”

“Specialty?” Mark giggled. “I wish I had enough bartending experience to say that. I have nothing special to offer back.”

“Baby, you don’t need anything. Your company is special enough.”

Mark looked down, uncomfortable. He fiddled with the drink in his hand, swishing the red liquid. The interviewer caught the drop in mood.

“Would you like another?”

“Um, yeah actually. I would,” Mark said, handing over his empty glass.

“Your wish is my command.”

The man had another drink completed in no time. Mark sipped at it slower this time to savor the flavor. He closed his eyes and hummed. It was just that good. When he opened his eyes again, the man had seemed to be even closer to his face. 

They talked. The man continued to brew him various cocktails, ranging in flavors and ingredients to garner a taste of Mark’s preferences. Conversation flowed easily, and Mark found himself telling the man a bit too much about himself. But it was okay. His body felt warm, and the atmosphere was nice. When the man reached out to grab his hand, instead of feeling a rush of repulsion or discomfort, a delightful tingle ran through his nerves. Mark blinked slowly, taking in the features of the man before him. 

“Do you want to come upstairs with me, Mark-kun? It’s quieter and we can talk while actually being able to hear each other,” the man suggested.

“That sounds…nice,” Mark decided. “Let’s go.”

The man rushed around the bar to get to Mark’s side. He held a hand out to guide Mark through the crowd toward the stairs. It wasn’t until Mark entered the dimly lit staircase that he realized that the situation felt off. There were couples lining the passageway, all in some shape or form grinding as they made out with each other. The air vaguely smelled of sweat and sex. 

“Um, actually I don’t think that—,” Mark began, but the hand around his waist suddenly squeezed. “Ah!” He shivered.

“Don’t worry about them. Just ignore it,” the man reassured. 

Mark uncertainly glanced at the man’s visage. His expression was clear, with a presenter’s smile ghosting his lips. He opened his mouth to resist, but the door behind them abruptly slammed open.

“Mark!” 

Mark turned toward his name. His heart pounded when his eyes fell upon Jackson at the base of the stairs. His body buzzed with a strange energy, and he _wanted_ him. 

“Gaga,” Mark responded, words laden with endearing fervor. “Where have you been?”

Jackson pounded up the stairs until he was standing just one step lower. He yanked the interviewer’s hand away from Mark, removing his support. Mark stumbled even though he had been standing still. He reached a hand out toward the handrail to steady himself. He didn’t realize that he was a little past tipsy until he had to stand on his own. Blood rushed up to his head, leaving him slightly dizzy. Okay, intervention, maybe a lot past tipsy and kind of drunk. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jackson near shouted at the interviewer, glaring him down. Mark never noticed how hot Jackson looked when he was angry. “Did you think you could just get him drunk and take him upstairs to have your way with him?”

Jackson’s raised voice caught the attention of the people around them. A few began to awkwardly edge away from the commotion.

“He made his own decisions,” he man stood his ground. “I invited him upstairs to chat. He agreed.”

Mark tugged at Jackson’s sleeve insistently. “Jackson-ah, where have you been?”

“Watching over you,” Jackson snapped at him before turning back to match the interviewer’s shady gaze eye to eye. He pointed a finger at the man, face contorted in disgust. “You say he made his own decisions but this is after you gave him _how_ many drinks? Look how drunk he is! Mark blacks out if he drinks too much. Anything you do to him can and will be considered rape. If you wish to preserve your reputation, I’d suggest getting the fuck out of here right now.”

The interviewer’s hands flew up in surrender. “Look, I wasn’t looking for any trouble, Jackson-kun. I just wanted to get to know this nice—.”

“Leave,” Jackson growled. He possessively snatched Mark’s hand in his to show off their matching bracelets. The interviewer caught how the shiny metal reflected in the dim lights. He backed off.

“Alright, alright. Enjoy the rest of the party, lovebirds,” the man said cordially. He went back downstairs grumbling something to himself. It reminded Mark of the evil villains in Scooby Doo when they would yell some nonsense after getting caught. The thought had Mark giggling.

Jackson lashed at him at the sound. “Did you do that on purpose? Did you _like_ receiving attention from that sleazebag?”

Mark’s eyebrows drew together. “I’d never—.”

“But that’s what we’ve been doing for days, isn’t it? We’re just pushing and pulling and getting nowhere. Why are we doing this?” Jackson asked suddenly. His tone had Mark reeling ten steps backwards, except all he did was slam into the wall behind him. The railing was digging into his lower back, but he hardly noticed. Mark was speechless, but Jackson was already changing tracks before Mark could even begin. “We should go lie you down. Did that bastard say there were beds upstairs?” 

“I dunno… I thought we were just going to talk.”

Jackson shook his head. “You can’t honestly be that gullible.”

Mark bristled. “I fell for you, didn’t I?” he yelled. The words were spat out in frustration, imploding in the high pressure between them, emotional shrapnel flying everywhere. Yet, as soon as the words were out, as soon as Mark’s eyes fell on Jackson’s blank face, he regretted bursting out like that. He turned his head to the side resolutely, unable to meet Jackson’s eyes anymore. Honestly, Mark wasn’t drunk enough to deal with this shit, but he knew better than to go back to the bar seeking another drink. “I’ll head upstairs then. You can go back down to the party.”

“Wait.”

“What? You can just forget what I said. We can go back to normal like you wanted in the first place.”

“That’s not it,” Jackson shook his head. 

There was a hand on Mark’s cheek, directing him back to face Jackson. Time seemed to slow as Jackson’s eyes slipped shut and he leaned forward. Mark stood frozen as their lips crashed together. Yet, as soon as their skin touched, Mark came alive. It was messy and it was gentle, and Jackson way overestimated their distance, but as his lips moved against Mark’s, Mark felt happiness explode behind his eyelids. 

“I don’t want to go back to how things were,” Jackson whispered against Mark’s lips. “So would you let me have you?”

 

The car ride home was ridden with unspoken arousal. Jackson’s hand on Mark’s inner thigh did nothing to quench the heat. The rest of the party had passed in a blur of moving bodies and slick sweat. For once, he didn’t mind the people pressed against him because Jackson’s hand was wrapped around his as he led him back to the dance floor. And while he was watching Jackson, he was pleased to find Jackson staring back at him each time. 

As soon as the car pulled up to the hotel, Jackson was dragging Mark out of the car and into the first elevator that opened. He hit the close door button before the other members could jump in. Pressing their floor number, Jackson then pushed Mark into the opposite wall. His body was flush against his in an instant. 

“Should we commemorate tonight?”

“As what?”

“The first night of our relationship?”

“You’re so lame,” Mark giggled. “Is this like our wedding night when you take me for the first time?”

Jackson faltered for less than a moment but quickly recovered before arousing Mark’s suspicion. “This could hardly be called the first time after all the things I’ve seen your body do for me.”

“Shut up,” Mark blushed, remembering their escapades from the previous days. It was crazy and purely hormonal, but Mark couldn’t say he really regretted going about this whole thing backwards. It happened as it happened, and now that he got to hold Jackson in his arms, he couldn’t be happier.

“Shall we continue where we left off?” Jackson asked, sliding a knee up between Mark’s legs. Mark answered by grinding down on the joint, eliciting a moan into the confined space.

The elevator dinged their arrival, and god was Mark thankful that no one was waiting on the other side of those doors. They shuffled out of the metal box, movements hindered by the weight at their groins and each other’s limbs. Mark wound up holding onto Jackson’s front while the younger carried him to their shared room, kissing all the while. They fumbled with the lock but eventually made it in. 

“We still don’t have lube so we’re not going to be able to—,” Jackson began, breaking their liplock.

“Shut up,” Mark growled back. His tone was leagues deeper than his first exclamation in the elevator and the dominating aura had Jackson whimpering. Remnants of the alcohol pumped through his blood, leaving his skin hot. “I don’t care what we do as long as we do _something_. Jackson, I fucking need you.”

So Jackson undressed Mark at an impossible speed, considering how Mark’s pants were practically glued to his lean legs. Jackson next grabbed Mark and flipped him onto the bed so that the elder laid on top of him upside down. Jackson had his hands on Mark’s round ass, eyes full of Mark’s leaking cock. 

“Are we really 69’ing?” Mark asked breathily. 

As if to answer, Jackson tipped his head forward and took Mark into his mouth without warning. Mark’s broken moan echoed through the room, and his hips twitched in satisfaction. Jackson sucked Mark down hard. His pace was relentless, but Mark was not going to lose. He unbuckled Jackson’s belt, throwing the offending object haphazardly. He next unzipped Jackson’s jeans and tugged his erection out from the confines of his dress pants. Mark swallowed down Jackson in one swift motion, gag reflex be damned. Jackson in turn moaned around Mark’s cock, and the vibrations caused Mark’s elbows to give out. Mark collapsed on top of Jackson’s torso while each participated in their own little contest of who could get the other off the fastest. 

Jackson knew he was going to win when he stuck a finger into Mark’s twitching hole while mouthing around his balls, and he felt Mark’s cock jerk against his chin of its own volition.

“That’s cheating,” Mark cried out between moans.

“This was never a competition in the first place,” Jackson replied cockily, watching as his spit trickled out of Mark’s hole. He pushed the fluid back inside with a slicked-up second finger.

“I totally could’ve won,” Mark insisted, glaring at Jackson from between his legs. The scene normally would have been ridiculously funny, as with Mark’s hair completely vertical and reddening face upside down between his limbs. However, Jackson was too turned on to acknowledge the humor.

“Then prove it.”

It was a messy battle, with Mark ejaculating all over Jackson’s neck and Mark catching Jackson’s seed in his mouth. Jackson won, but Mark had never felt more content in his life, orgasming with Jackson’s cock in his mouth and his fingers in his ass. They wiped up and migrated to the other, clean bed to fall asleep. The lights were off, and Mark idly watched how the headlights of passing cars slipped through the crack in the curtains, dancing over the floral wallpaper. Jackson’s arm slinked around his waist, pulling him against his chest.

“Mark-hyung… _please_ tell me you aren’t drunk right now.”

“I’ve been worse,” Mark replied, and it was true. His head had cleared somewhere on the road way back to the hotel, thoughts creating coherent paths in his brain. He felt good.

“So you won’t forget our conversation when we wake up, right?”

“Does that mean you like me too?”

Jackson nuzzled in closer, and his next words were whispered over Mark’s nape. “Of course I do.” 

“Then I’ll definitely remember.”

To the forefront of Mark’s mind came the memories that he had attempted to bury deep. He never wanted to re-experience the ache in his chest that night when he had to comfort Jackson after he broke up with his girlfriend to accept the contract to become an idol. He wished to forget his self-inflicted misery at the thought of Jackson seeking out Jinyoung’s comfort. The jealousy and the hurt took too much of a toll on his psyche, and although he wanted to trust Jackson with his entirety, he knew that it would take time.

“I… I’ll be there for you, but you gotta be there for me too. I won’t be able to forgive you if you betray me. If you can promise me that…then I’m yours.”

“Then it’s done. You’re mine, and I’m yours.”

Mark paused. “Isn’t that our song lyric?”

Jackson only pulled Mark in tighter, giggling into his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)) thank you for all the lovely comments you left on the last chapter. Sorry I couldn't answer everyone, but they really kept me going!  
> If you didn't notice, the last part had references to lyrics from two songs (one of which being Got7's) ;)


	3. awake (the afternoons in between)

Dreams came easier that night.

 

***

 

The stars were muted by the smoky gleam of city lights. The setting burgeoned around him like a fresh balloon, shop fronts bursting into life and faceless people bustling in clusters. It mattered not how Mark wound up crunching along the frost-covered pavement back in Korea. He was more focused on the heavy arm slung around his shoulders. Looking over, he saw a younger Jackson walking closely beside him. Past him, in the reflection of the icy window of a closed shop, Mark saw a shock of cherry red hair sitting like a beacon on his own head. 

Three years ago. A memory.

Mark bathed in Jackson’s heat, a contented smile crawling its way to his face.

“What’s that look for?” Jackson nudged him, noticing his strange expression. “We’re just getting ice cream.”

“But I’m getting ice cream with my _best friend_ for maybe _the_ last time before we debut,” Mark pointed out, bouncing on his heels for reasons other than fending off the cold weather. “This is finally our last cones as trainees!”

“Um, excuse me but best friend _for life_ , thank you very much,” Jackson corrected.

Mark hesitated, tongue coming out to lick at his lips uncertainly. “You have so many other friends. How do you even know we’ll stay together for that long?”

“If we don’t, then nothing else would make sense in the world,” Jackson answered promptly. 

Mark stared at his sure expression for a beat too long. Where Mark was full of insecurity about the future, Jackson was so straightforwardly certain. The assurance made Mark’s heart race. Perhaps confidence flowed easier when there weren’t obstructive feelings curdling inside your heart. 

“You exaggerate too much,” Mark brushed off.

“No way. I only speak the truth.” Jackson held up his free hand, scout’s honor.

Mark scratched the back of his head, venturing forward down an untouched trail of conversation with tentative steps. “You know, the other guys say that we spent too much time together, that we are like…gay for each other and shit.”

Mark watched as Jackson’s eyes widened with sealed lips.

“That’s…r-ridiculous,” Jackson stammered, jerking away from Mark nevertheless. Mark paled at the loss of Jackson’s heat by his side. “Who said that?”

“Dunno. Peniel said that he heard some guys talking when he came to visit me last week. It bothered him that they were talking shit about us.” 

“Oh…” Jackson’s gaze fell to the clumps of dirty ice beneath their feet. The snow had melted into a black paste under the countless footprints before them. All that remained were stained crystals. How romantic.

“What if, after we debut and all, the public, they… Would they think the same?” Mark asked, uneasy. 

“Does this mean you don’t want to hang out anymore?” Jackson sounded crestfallen and _quiet_.

“Is that what _you_ want? If it is then…then… I’m just…worried about all of this, you know?” Mark’s fingers dug into his pockets, seeking warmth and seeking comfort. He found neither. “I don’t want people to think that way about me… about us.”

“Whatever. We aren’t breaking up over this. I’m sure the guys are just jealous that their best friend isn’t as gorgeous as mine,” Jackson brushed off finally, seeming to find his cheery self again.

“You’re so full of it.” Mark scoffed, elbowing Jackson nearly into a parked bike. He then pulled his hood up higher to hide his blush. Jackson’s mention of ‘breaking up’ suggested that they were in a relationship in the first place. That was enough make Mark’s palms sweat.

“Hey, I’m serious, Mark. It’s not a big deal. If anything, maybe our fans will ship us. That’d be funny.”

“Yeah, hilarious,” Mark rolled his eyes. _‘It’s not a big deal’ my ass._

They arrived in the store, the bells tinkling above their head as Jackson pushed open the door. The girl behind the counter greeted them with a polite smile. Mark couldn’t help but notice the smile was a little less forced when directed at Jackson. No matter how much Jackson painted Mark as a marvel to behold, the latter’s charm simply could not be compared. Mark felt incredibly small beside him.

“What do you want? I’m paying,” Jackson proclaimed, fishing out his wallet.

“Jacks—.”

“You paid last time. No arguing.”

“Cookies and cream,” Mark relented.

“Okay, then one cone with cookies and cream and one with French vanilla.”

“Sure thing!” the girl beamed.

“Vanilla again?” Mark asked as they waited for her to prepare the cones.

“You always get the same thing too! Don’t play that.”

“But vanilla’s so _boring_ ,” Mark giggled. He was totally joking, but he loved to tease Jackson just to get a reaction out of him. Of course it always made him proud to garner a laugh out of anyone, but there was this warm firework of feelings that bursts inside of him whenever he sees Jackson riled up because of _him_.

“Hey! I can tell you that I’m anything but vanilla. I just happen to like the flavor,” Jackson defended dramatically.

“Oh yeah?” Mark challenged. “I’d like to see that.”

“Would you now?” Jackson asked mischievously. Without warning, he spun around and pulled Mark towards him by the front of his shirt until their noses brushed. Mark’s eyes widened as he felt Jackson’s hot breath across his cold lips. His feet stumbled to avoid falling onto Jackson. As he stared straight into Jackson’s eyes, the initial shock melted into something softer. His lips parted unconsciously as time seemed to stretch around them.

Mark could remember how this scene actually played out. They were interrupted by the girl at the register, shattered out of their moment with Mark jumping back wildly in alarm. Their hands fell to their sides. Mark’s heart pounded in his ears, the beat knocking out all other sounds until that was all he could hear: regret, fear, regret, guilt, regret, why, the, fuck, did, I, do, that. Meanwhile, Jackson resumed flirting with the girl as if there was hardly a crackle of static in their regularly scheduled programing.

This time, instead of a rerun, Mark’s id snatched the control panel. 

Mark tilted just a tad, mouth brushing Jackson’s, and the breaths the two released were immense, filling the swelling space between them.

The mood suddenly changed. The lights of the shop seemed to dim considerably, and Mark completely forgot about the girl behind the cash register. In fact, if he turned to look, he was sure that he wouldn’t even see her there anymore.

Mark’s hands came up to tug on the lapels of Jackson’s coat, pulling the man forward until their two bodies couldn’t possibly meld any closer. 

“—hyung,” Jackson breathed into Mark’s mouth, sending a burst of hot air inside. Mark shivered and crashed his lips against Jackson’s a second time. He felt the heated pressure of Jackson’s lips pulsing against his own before a tongue licked at the seam.

“Jackson-ah,” Mark responded in a near-moan, letting Jackson in. He never wanted to break free of their dance of lips and tongue. Mark was more than eager to try his turn, and it wasn’t long before their simple kiss became dirty.

“Mark-hyung,” Jackson said again, but this time he seemed more urgent. His tone, however, did not seem to register when Mark was busy tugging at Jackson’s bottom lip with his teeth.

However, Jackson’s shouts grew louder.

“Mark!!”

 

***

 

Mark’s eyes shot open.

Suddenly, Mark wasn’t standing in an ice cream shop in the middle of January-themed Seoul. He looked around him blearily, the taste of his dream slipping from his woken mind. Jackson was leaning over him, blocking most of his view. Mark glanced down at the sheets covering him and vaguely wondered when he had bought white linens and why that had seemed like a good idea. Then he looked toward the giant window layered with heavy curtains, and he remembered where he was. Hotel room. Present day.

“What is it?” Mark asked, rubbing at his eyes. He could still feel a vague pressure on his lips.

“I’ve been trying to wake you up for forever. We need to go to the airport soon.”

Mark groaned, wishing he could dive back into his sleep. “I was having such a good dream.”

“You did? What of? Was I in it?” Jackson pestered, shaking the sleep out of Mark’s weary body. Orgasming from behind always seemed to tire Mark out more than usual.

“You woke me up so I’m not telling,” Mark complained petulantly. When Mark had woken up in such a fright, most of the dream had easily escaped the clutches of his memory. These large segments were now long gone. He only had left the sweet taste of happiness—it reminded him of his favorite ice cream flavor, sweet and creamy with a little cookie crunch for texture—and the hot press of Jackson’s lips.

“Well, you did seem pretty happy saying my name in your sleep so…” Jackson smirked.

“Then why ask if you were in it?!” Mark half-wailed in mortification. He buried his head deep into the pillow. Based on prior experience, he wasn’t even surprised that he had spoken in his sleep, just embarrassed as hell.

“Curiosity,” Jackson grinned. “Anyway, I’m sorry to wake you, but you do have the real thing right here.”

“I don’t know if that’s much better. My head hurts,” Mark complained, changing the subject.

“Is it from last night?” 

Mark peeked at Jackson’s worried expression. The swell of the pillow hid the evil smile gathering on his face.

“What? Something happened last night?”

Jackson’s face paled. “Shit… Don’t tell you me don’t remember.”

“Remember what?” Mark asked, lifting himself up onto his elbows to look at Jackson innocently. He bit at the inside of his cheek to keep from bursting out laughing.

“W-we did some stuff…sexual stuff… I’d just um feel bad if you didn’t remember.”

“You mean you’d feel bad if I didn’t remember your Grade A confession?” Mark asked, grinning. He mimicked Jackson’s voice by lowering it like ten octaves, “‘You’re mine. I’m yours’. Such plagiarism.”

Jackson stared at him for a second before it clicked. He sighed histrionically, collapsing beside Mark in a huff. He curled up beside the elder’s body, hugging around his waist.

“I can’t believe I fell for it,” Jackson groaned, nestling his head into Mark’s shoulder. “Thought it was happening again.”

“Again?”

Jackson froze at where he was rolling around in self-pity. “I-I-I mean just because you blacked out before. It can’t be healthy for you to keep forgetting stuff.”

“In any case, I feel fine.” Mark grew suspicious of Jackson’s actions. He noticed the unnecessary pause, the cover up. Jackson wasn’t saying everything, but Mark didn’t have enough leverage to push it. “So how long do we have before we need to leave?” 

“Uhh, like twenty minutes now.”

“You think we have enough time to…you know?” Mark asked, biting his lip in the way he knew Jackson’s eyes were wont to follow.

“Y-yeah, I think so.”

Mark swung his leg over Jackson’s hip, pushing him down so that he could lie on top. He leaned down from his superior position and sucked gently at the divot under Jackson’s jaw by his ear, not hard enough to leave a mark but not soft enough to be unfelt. Jackson groaned, already needy, and Mark felt something harden underneath him.

He was going to find that leverage.

 

Jinyoung narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Can’t I buy you a single cup of coffee without arousing your suspicion?” Mark asked, playing innocuous. He blinked sweetly at Jinyoung and pouted just a little over his mask to look cute. He had his arms wrapped all around Jinyoung in the way he knew the younger liked when he was craving physical contact.

“No.”

They stepped forward in line together as the customer at the register finished her order—Mark having to walk sideways due to his koala hold on Jinyoung. The airport wasn’t spectacularly crowded today, which was lucky for them. The line at the coffee shop was relatively short, and the fans remained a respectful distance away.

“Okay,” Mark sighed. “If I really _need_ an agenda, then I’ll tell you. I wanted to thank you for all your advice on what to do with Jackson.”

Jinyoung leveled him with a stare that told him he wasn’t buying it—at all. 

“You know, hyung, you don’t really have to thank me for advice that you aren’t going to follow.”

The man directly in front of them moved to the side, so Mark stepped up to the counter.

Jinyoung continued in a low voice, “How many times do I have to tell you? If you would just stop being a bitch and confess to him then maybe we can work all of this—.”

“Hi, um one venti vanilla latte and a venti iced Americano please,” Mark ordered over Jinyoung’s rant. He paid, and the two meandered over to the pick up counter.

“—out. You say my advice is so great, but are you listening to it? No. Seriously, hyung, is it really that hard? If you keeping dragging this out, you’re only going to regret waiting for so long in the future—.”

“I already did, Jinyoung-ie,” Mark said calmly, biting his lip to quell the involuntary grin coming on at the mere thought of Jackson looking so happy last night. He pulled his mask up over his mouth.

“You _what_?”

“Don’t look so surprised. That’s why we’re celebrating with coffee.”

“I take it went well?”

“He felt the same,” Mark blushed.

“See? That wasn’t so bad. Now you two can make up for lost time—and lost memory,” Jinyoung chuckled. 

Now was the time to begin his plan.

“Right… I really can’t believe I forgot all that,” Mark fibbed. 

“Really. Based on what Jackson told me, you two had a hell of a night.”

“He didn’t give you any details?” Mark skirted.

“No way. He said he was saving them or something. And, I don’t really need to hear about how you perform in bed, so.”

Mark paled, but he shoved the thought into the back of his head for later. He remembered how, after days of avoiding him, Jackson had flipped him over and told him that they had only fell asleep together that night. After pretending to do this and that, he had said that it was all a joke. And it had made sense. It was logical that Jackson would treat him the same, would coddle the other members as much as before, because nothing had happened. But now… What would make Jackson choose to avoid him after such a major development occurred in their friendship? When they could have been sharing kisses and stealthy touches, why did Jackson direct his affection elsewhere?

Mark plastered a grin on his face. “Come on, you might like what you hear.”

“You’re saying you remember now?” Jinyoung studied him.

“Bits and pieces. It mostly just feels like a dream.” 

_A dream…_ He still remembered how vivid those dreams were in the following days. Was he to rely more on the erratic synaptic loops of his subconscious than on Jackson?

Jinyoung pursed his lips. “Memory really does work in strange ways, huh.”

“Save that talk for the scientists. It’s over my head,” Mark said, subconsciously crossing his arms; it was a defense mechanism.

“I told you all along though, didn’t I? I was right from the start. I didn’t even need Jackson to come crawling to me a week later with his tail between his legs.”

The cogs of Mark’s brain turned, struggling to make sense of this information despite the rusting of amnesia. He brushed this off to the side for now, however. His first goal was to get as much information as he could before he was caught. Plus, the sooner it was over, the sooner he could be left alone in silence. He had a lot to process, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. 

“H-he…did he tell you what I said?”

“I don’t think so? Ooh, Mark-hyung. Was it so bad that he wouldn’t say?”

“Let’s just leave it at that,” Mark said quickly. Then hopefully he hadn’t prematurely confessed his feelings to Jackson under the weight of alcohol loosening his lips. That was really for the best. If he found out that Jackson had known about his feelings this entire time…

“Oh!” Jinyoung nudged his arm, eager embarrass Mark with what he now thought was common shared knowledge. “Jackson-hyung did tell me about how happy he was to find out that you were a virgin.”

Mark’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. “What?!” he exclaimed before he could stop himself.

“Wait, hyung,” Jinyoung paused, immediately suspicious. “Did he not tell you that?”

“No, I guess he left that part out,” Mark gritted out, feigning anger at Jackson’s supposed avoidance of detail rather than his own stupid mouth. 

_“Do you always seduce men like that?” Jackson asked, hovering over him, filling his vision with his larger form._

_Mark paused, stunned, before tears welled in his eyes, spilling over. Jackson startled in an instant._

_“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—.”_

_“That’s so mean,” Mark cut him off. “Even though that was my first time, you…you—.”_

So far, all Mark could conjecture was that his wet dreams were not solely based on his own fantasies. And that Jackson wasn’t simply a natural at knowing what Mark liked in bed. Or maybe he was. Mark had no fucking idea.

However, what was even worse was perhaps the fact that Jackson never told him that his body had been violated. If this type of situation had happened before back in the States… He may have ceased being a virgin long before he himself had realized it. Just how far had he gone with Jackson? With someone else? 

“Hyung, I’m sure it isn’t the end of the world,” Jinyoung comforted him, oblivious to the true reason of Mark’s turmoil. “If anything, he loves you more for letting him be your first.”

So then it’s true, Mark reluctantly deduced: the dreams, the guesses, everything. Jackson had taken him that night, based on Jinyoung’s words. He had felt Mark’s body submit to him, and he kept this important bit of information to himself.

“But what if…” Mark began numbly, needing someone to tell him he was wrong. “What if he wasn’t even my first at all? What if something happened to me years back when I’ve blacked out before? I wouldn’t even be able to remember.”

“Wouldn’t your friends have told you or congratulated you or whatever? They seem a little too…um _preoccupied_ with sex. I’m sure your ‘graduation into adulthood’ would be heavily lauded. You’d be the king of the neighborhood.”

“Thanks,” Mark said. He ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re probably right. It’s just a scary thought, you know? Waking up and not knowing what happened to your body the night before.”

“I can’t even imagine,” Jinyoung sympathized. 

“One venti vanilla latte and one venti iced Americano!” a barista called out, plopping their drinks on the counter.

Mark got the cups with a nod of thanks. The kind expression didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it served its purpose. He handed Jinyoung the latte, and together they headed back to the gate for boarding.

There was one saving grace, however, given all the strange happenings that were connecting in his muddled head. Those angry red marks decorating Jackson’s back that Mark had been so jealous of were left by none other than him.

 

It was just his luck that Jackson was assigned to the seat beside him when Mark had hoped for some peace and quiet on the flight back. Mark took out his phone, immediately slipping his earbuds in to appear busy. At the very least, he hoped Jackson would get the message that he wanted to be left alone for the duration of the flight. 

Nope.

Their private morning activities seemed the energize Jackson more than ever. He kept pestering him, asking about his opinion on which drink to get, informing him about how stunning the view out the window was (they were just clouds, Jackson), and begging to know how his performance was on their most recent stage. Mark mumbled lukewarm answers, but Jackson only came up with new questions. 

In the end, Mark set his phone down in his lap and tilted his head to the side in attempt to sleep. He stilled his breathing, focusing on the monotonous rumbling of the plane underneath him. As he felt himself really beginning to drift off, a heavy head plopped on his shoulder. He felt Jackson reach for his hand, fingers tentatively brushing over his knuckles before finally settling on his wrist.

Mark really couldn’t hate him. He held him too dear to his heart. Even with all the secrets that Jackson held from him, maybe he had his reasons. After all, he still couldn’t say he knew the entire story of what happened that night. 

“Mark…”

Hearing his name over the steady beat of music in his ears, he lazily turned his head to the side, opening an eye to glance at the top of Jackson’s head. 

“Yeah?”

“You should spend more time with me,” Jackson mumbled, which was unusual enough for him. Jackson hardly ever whined like that, not really. Sure, he pretended to be butthurt over little insignificant things, but his tone here was different, serious.

“Hm?” Mark took out an earbud to hear him more clearly. 

“You’re always with Jinyoung-ie. It makes me feel lonely. I-if we’re going to be together, then I wish I could have more of your time.”

Mark pulled his arm back so that his fingers could find Jackson’s. Their forearms were crossed over the narrow armrest, Mark on top. He squeezed Jackson’s hand comfortingly, rubbing his thumb down the length of his knuckles.

“I’m with you most of the time.”

“Nuh uh. Not recently.”

“Recently, all we’ve been doing is getting each other off whenever we’re near each other. Don’t blame me for avoiding your company. I loved it, but it kinda sucked.”

“It sucked?”

“It hurt me, Jackson, to do this things…meaninglessly,” Mark bit his lip, nervous about admitting something so close to his heart.

“That’s true,” the younger admitted, “but it’s not meaningless anymore, right? So what about from now on then? I’d rather you buy coffee for me instead of for Jinyoung.”

Mark startled as if he had been caught. It wasn’t as if he meant to covertly sneak Jinyoung away, but he was surprised that Jackson had noticed something like that. He was reminded of how handsy he had been with Jinyoung while tugging him away from the boarding gates. He had even kissed him on the cheek when he noticed the cameras weren’t on them for a second. Had Jackson seen?

Jackson brought his other hand up to hold Mark’s bicep, effectively hugging Mark’s arm against his chest as he pouted. Mark could feel the planes of Jackson’s pectorals through their clothing. He naturally relaxed into Jackson’s hold.

“I’ve never seen you this needy,” Mark tried joking to wane his own mental unease. He felt ashamed, like there was a bag of bricks attached to his ankle, dragging him deeper and deeper into the darkness of the sea.

“It’s because I’m jealous,” Jackson said, words almost inaudible due to how his cheek was squished against Mark’s bony shoulder. “You’re mine.”

“How can you be jealous, Mr. Popular? I have to see you surrounded by other people at every hour of the day.” He was reminded of his prior concern of Jackson clinging to other people after their first night together. Try as he might, he really couldn’t drop the grudge he held. It kept popping out of nowhere, knocking at the doors of his sanity and barging in regardless of whether he wanted to let it in or not.

“That’s nothing.”

“Sure,” Mark grumbled an agreement, not really meaning it. He felt bad, but Jackson was worse to him. He had gone behind his back to find out what Jackson had hid in the first place.

“Hey, hey,” Jackson perked up, sensing Mark’s drop in mood. “I’m serious. They don’t mean what you do to me.”

But Mark didn’t want to talk anymore so he looked into the aisle row and away from Jackson. His mind was still mulling over his new findings. 

 

Since they got back, it had been nonstop practicing from early mornings to late nights. If the first day was vocal training, then the second was dance practice. The boys had little breaks and were forced to retire as soon as they returned home due to their own exhaustion. Mark swore that they were less busy while on tour. And now they were preparing for another one. 

Mark barely touched Jackson in over a week, and it grated on his nerves. He watched with pursed lips as Jackson slobbered over the other members like the oversized puppy he was, all the while still carrying an unspoken grudge. Sure Mark got his butt taps on occasion, but it wasn’t enough. Hardly. The strain of fatigue on his body only added to the fire, rapidly burning his already short fuse. 

Mark sat on the couch, absentmindedly watching Jackson straddle Jaebum’s lap from over the top of his phone. When Jaebum struggled, Jackson only tried that much harder, attempting to press kisses to his skin as well. Mark’s grip on his phone tightened imperceptibly. By now he knew better than to storm out of the room in fury. That would only bring strange glances and a certain cautious approach from the younger members. Mark didn’t like that, didn’t enjoy being treated like he was delicate—wildfire in a glass vial. 

The door flew open suddenly, and their teacher rushed in, half on the phone.

“I’m so sorry, but something urgent came up. You guys can have the rest of the day off. I already notified your manager.”

“Don’t worry about it. Take care of whatever is happening. We’ll see you tomorrow?” Jaebum said graciously after using the distraction to shove Jackson off.

“Yes, yes. I’ll see you then.”

“Thank you!” the rest shouted as the man left just as quickly as he came in.

 

Jackson looked between the others. “So what do you want to do? I think I’m going to hit the gym.” 

The trail of his gaze ended on Mark where he was still looking at his phone. He bit his lip, wondering just what the elder was busy doing. There were so many possibilities hidden in that little contraption, so many people that Mark could be happily messaging, sharing inside jokes and private giggles. Jackson mentally slapped himself for even considering Mark was being unfaithful. He just wanted those brown eyes directed up at him, not down at some backlit screen.

“Me too,” Jinyoung said suddenly, snapping Jackson back to the present. “I’ll go with you.”

Jackson glanced around the room. “Anyone else want to come too?”

“I’m gonna get food.”

“I need to feed Coco.”

“I need new shoes.”

“You _want_ new shoes,” Yugyeom corrected Bambam. “I think I’m going to keep practicing the dance.”

“Mark-hyung?” Jackson stared at Mark’s bent head, expectant for an answer. When the elder finally lifted his eyes, his gaze still wandered elsewhere. There was an expression on his face that left Jackson perplexed.

“I’m going back to the dorms. I wanna sleep.”

“Hyung, you sleep all day. You’re getting old,” Bambam pointed out.

“Yah, I’m not even balding. Shut it.”

“If you sleep too much, you won’t be able to at night,” Jinyoung warned. “Come to the gym with us.”

Jackson shot Jinyoung a thankful look, glad the younger was helping him encourage Mark.

“I’m just going to nap. Don’t want to intrude on your Wang Gae Park Gae time.”

Sure, Mark did sound tired—they all were to some extent—but there was something else under the surface that Jackson couldn’t quite reach. It wasn’t the plain jealousy of before that coiled in their guts like snakes ready to strike, a fight to the death. This was something deeper, more widespread, less volatile, a blanketing cloud slowly suffocating their bud of a relationship.

“Hyung,” Yugyeom whined, an unspoken protest on his lips. Jackson wondered if the maknae had always been so perceptive of their mutual pining for each other. He and Bambam had always seemed to love ‘Markson’ the most, ever since the beginning.

“Come with me to get some food first,” Jaebum offered, blissfully oblivious to Jackson’s plans. “You haven’t been eating as well recently.”

Jackson watched as Mark’s eyes flitted between the people he was talking to, never once landing on him. Mark’s cheeks did seem more sunken than usual, but he hadn’t had any time to monitor him during meals. Was he really not eating recently?

“Yeah, I’ll go with you,” Mark decided, smiling at Jaebum. Jackson’s stomach dropped with every word that came out of Mark’s mouth.

 

“You don’t have to pout all the way there,” Jinyoung said, already exasperated with Jackson’s behavior.

“I wanted him to come with _us_ not with Jaebum,” Jackson whined, extra loud in the small elevator. “I was all over hyung earlier so that he would look at me and not at Mark. Besides, I wanted to see him get all hot and sweaty. He’s so cute when he pants. Oh my god, and that expression he has when he’s super focused on an exercise with his eyebrows all furrowed together and—!”

“You only wanted him to go with you. I know you didn’t need me,” Jinyoung interrupted so that he wouldn’t hear more than necessary. He really did not want to think about the other occasions Jackson had seen Mark ‘hot and sweaty.’

“That’s not true. I value your company too, Jinyoung-ie.”

Jinyoung scoffed. “You wanted to fuck him against the Stairmaster. Don’t even pretend.”

“I did not!” Jackson gasped then paused. “…How would that even work?”

“You’d be surprised,” was all Jinyoung said. 

The elevator doors slid open, revealing the broad expanse of the basement. Jinyoung walked ahead toward the gym, leaving Jackson to follow behind. Jinyoung started up the treadmill, walking at a swift pace to warm up.

“But it’s not like we’ve even gotten to…you know,” Jackson glanced around and found the gym completely empty except for them, “fucking.”

“I can’t imagine it’d be a very long wait since you’ve already told him about that night.”

“What night?” Jackson stopped in his tracks.

“That night when you got drunk together,” Jinyoung said casually, beginning to jog.

“In Japan?” Jackson asked, still confused.

“No, you idiot. It was like over three weeks ago or something? Maybe four? I can’t really remember. It was when we all celebrated back at the dorms after Mark came back from the jungle.”

“I told you that I told him about that?”

“No, he did.”

“Jinyoung, I never told him. I actually… I um… I kind of—uh lied to him about it. I said that nothing happened, that we just fell asleep together.”

“While happening to be naked? He bought that?”

“I guess.”

“But he acted like he knew that you two had sex…said it felt like a dream o-or something.” Jinyoung slowed down the speed of the treadmill so that he was just walking while the cogs in his head were racing. 

Jackson shook his head vehemently. “I never told him. I never did. I-I-I…I don’t know how he would know.”

“Damn it, Jackson-hyung. Do you think he was just pretending to know to get information out of me?”

“How would I know? I wasn’t there with you!” he burst out, on edge. His eyes went wide, rolling through all the worst-case scenarios of what must have happened.

“Okay, fine, don’t shout.”

“Sorry, I got—I’m just worried. When did he tell you this?”

“At the airport,” the realization dawned on Jinyoung, “when he bought me a coffee. Shit, I thought he was acting strange. I should have known.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s mine for lying in the first place. God, he must be furious with me. D-do you think that’s why he didn’t…?”

“Why he didn’t want to come today?”

Jackson nodded, hanging his head.

“I couldn’t say. He’s been acting strange all week again. It’s almost like back when this entire thing first began. Have you been spending time with him?”

“I don’t know… No, not really I don’t think. Not any time alone. We’ve been so busy, and I mean, I already said we were together, so I thought…”

“Mark-hyung needs more than just words, you know. You can say whatever you want, but you have to _show_ him how you feel.”

“You’re right,” Jackson said, dejected. “Why do you understand him better than me? I’ve known him longer.”

“Because I’m the unaffected third party. Now get your ass out of here and go explain everything to him.”

 

“So how are you and Jackson?” Jaebum asked, watching Mark’s reaction out of the corner of his eye. The elder trailed behind slightly, making conversation difficult as they walked across the street to a nearby bakery.

“I don’t know,” Mark mumbled. “Why do you know about this anyway?”

“I know everything.”

Mark stared at him, eyebrows creased, disbelieving. 

“From Jinyoung-ie,” Jaebum relented.

“Of course.”

The bell jingled above their heads as standard for most shops. Mark heard a familiar bell ringing in his memory. As he looked around at the orange decor, he vaguely remembered the pink and blue of the ice cream shop from long ago. They had stopped frequenting that shop after they debuted and became too busy to relive the past. He missed it.

They ordered, with Jaebum insisting on paying for both, and took a seat against the wall, away from the windows. Mark noticed two girls in the corner giggling as they hid behind their phones. They stole glances in their direction, but Mark pointedly ignored the attention. 

“Well?” Jaebum asked, lowering his voice.

“He said he felt the same,” Mark said cryptically in case someone overheard, “but I don’t know.”

“What’s troubling you?”

“It’s just—he says all this sweet stuff to me, and whatever, it’s great. But then he goes around and acts the same to me as he does with everyone else. It’s…it doesn’t feel good.” Mark sighed, leaning back in his chair. He let his legs extend into Jaebum’s space a little. He was grieving; he deserved that much. 

And Jaebum let him. “Maybe he’s just shy?” he offered.

“You know who we’re talking about here.”

“Everyone gets nervous around the one they like.”

Mark crossed his arms with a focused scowl. “But he hasn’t even…” Mark lowered his voice, “…kissed me since Japan, but he’s all over everyone else. Even you.” 

Jaebum recalled how Jackson had peppered kisses all over his cheek and neck earlier today with guilt and a little revolt.

“I think he doesn’t like to show favoritism. He doesn’t want any one member getting more attention than the rest of the group, even though he’s the one with the largest fanbase. It’s rather…mature of him,” Jaebum considered.

“I know, I know. He’s clingy as fuck and needs attention more than most. He wants to give everyone love, but I’m just…kind of possessive I guess. Jinyoung says I am, anyway.” Mark still glowered, even as the words that left his mouth sounded more accepting than they had been in his head for the past week. 

There was something about Jaebum’s unspoken respect for him that helped Mark gain confidence. It wasn’t as if he was magically okay with the way Jackson tended to neglect him for the indulgence of others, but as he heard the words aloud, everything made a little more sense; it mediated the dissonance.

Jaebum nodded, understanding. “What if you talked to him about it?”

“I can’t. You’re right; this is just how he is. He’ll pretend that everything is okay so that no one has to worry about him.” That’s probably why he lied, Mark decided. _It was to make things easier on me._ “As much as I hate it, that’s what I love about him.”

“Love?” Jaebum raised an eyebrow.

“Like!” Mark startled. “I meant like. I mean, I don’t know. I’ve never…”

“Been in love? I get it. But you two have known each other for so long, and your feelings haven’t changed, right?”

“I still think it’s too early.”

“That’s up to you.”

Mark sucked at his bottom lip, thinking. When the lady behind the counter called their names, Mark made Jaebum go get the food for them. He returned with two baskets. Mark took his eagerly, ready to stuff his face.

“Do you want to pack your sandwich to go?” Jaebum suggested.

“What for?” Mark asked, mouth already full.

“So you can go and find Jackson faster?”

“He’s working out with Jinyoung. Who knows how long that will take?” Mark said, a little bitterly. No matter how much Jaebum comforted him with sound advice, Jackson was still out with people that were not him.

“Hey, we should go on a trip.”

“That’s random.”

“We have a long weekend before the next leg of our tour. Is there somewhere you want to go?”

“Maybe a hot spring? You know after we went to that sauna for the V live, it’d be nice to relax away from the cameras.”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll bring it up with the managers.” A low buzzing sound disturbed their quiet. “Isn’t that your phone?”

Mark stared at the face-down contraption on the table. He picked it up, feeling the vibrations against his palm. He frowned.

“Jackson?” Mark answered the phone. “I thought you were with Jinyoung. What’s wrong?”

“I am—ah, I was,” Jackson corrected himself. He sounded out of breath, which Mark supposed shouldn’t be too suspicious since the man was at the gym. “Um, are you home right now? There’s something I need to talk to you about. It’s kind of urgent?”

“But I’m with Jaebum right now.”

“O-oh,” Jackson faltered. “Right, sorry. You were getting food right? It can wait then. I’ll just um…I’ll go back to the dorms and wait for you. That’s fine. I’ll be there when you’re done. Uh…bye.”

“Bye,” Mark hung up.

Jaebum looked up at him over his sandwich. “What happened?” he asked with his mouth full, food shoved into his cheeks like a chipmunk. It’d be cute if it weren’t disgusting, but Mark couldn’t complain; he did the same thing.

“I don’t know. Jackson wanted to talk.”

“Do you know what about?”

Mark shrugged. His sandwich stuck to the roof of his mouth, and it became exceedingly difficult to swallow what remained. His eyebrows furrowed, wondering what it could be. What could Jackson have come to the conclusion of during that brief time with Jinyoung? Did he suddenly realize that he preferred the other over Mark? Chew, chew, swallow, repeat, but now his delicious sandwich had transformed to tasteless cardboard, an indigestible bolus.

“Hyung, you should go find Jackson. I can tell you’re worried.”

“I’m fine. Let’s just finish eating.”

“I know you aren’t. Maybe this talk will help.”

Mark set his sandwich down and curled his hands in his lap. “I just… I have no idea what he’s going to say. And I’m,” his voice cracked, “scared.”

“Don’t be,” Jaebum squeezed his forearm under the table, out of sight of prying eyes. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

Mark lowered his voice, and Jaebum had to lean in closer to hear him. “If he doesn’t want to be with me anymore…”

Jaebum met his eyes. If Mark were less preoccupied with another man, maybe his heart would have skipped a beat.

“I can’t imagine a future without you two together,” Jaebum stated confidently. “Now go. I paid for this sandwich anyway. Let me eat the rest.”

 

The walk back to the dorms was utterly dreadful. Halfway through it began to rain. Three quarters of the way it began to pour. Mark was drenched by the time he was pulling himself up the stairs to their front door. He glanced once out the window at the end of the hall to witness the dreary low-hanging clouds before he unlocked the door. What a fitting scene, he remarked bitterly. 

“Mark!” Jackson jumped off the couch as soon as he heard someone stumble in. “It’s raining so hard outside! You didn’t have to come now.”

“Jaebum shooed me away,” Mark grumbled, taking off his wet sneakers. Rain pounded at the windows of their apartment, and Mark could practically feel the heavy drops against his skin.

Jackson ran around, grabbing towels from the closet. “Hurry, dry off.” He shoved a towel in Mark’s arms and immediately went to work drying Mark’s hair with a washcloth. However, Jackson didn’t have much experience in this department and ended up scrubbing Mark’s head like one would a dog’s, but Mark even shook his hair out afterwards; the scruffy look that remained was…tantalizingly sexy, to put it lightly. Jackson wanted to cross the distance between them and press his lips against Mark’s, to let his hands speak the words caught in his throat whenever he looked at the elder. He wanted to warm Mark up a different way. But the elder’s expression was taut, and Jackson would be an idiot to not realize that now was definitely not the time.

“Well, I’m here now,” Mark grumbled. The towel Jackson gave him lay folded in his arms, unused. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Let’s sit down first.”

“Is it bad?” 

“Just sit down. Please? It’s about me and you.”

Mark sighed, completely dreading where this conversation is going. With the physical exhaustion from lack of sleep, he really wasn’t certain if he could handle the emotional ache as well. He wilted onto the couch, a polite distance away from Jackson, and it was _uncomfortable_. The two never had this type of strained tension fizzling the air, shoving them apart like two like sides of a magnet, forever a force field between them, never to touch.

Mark folded his hands in his lap and looked down to study his nails. “So what is it?”

“Can you first promise me you won’t hate me afterwards?” Jackson quickly interjected as a scapegoat. “I don’t know if maybe that’s asking for too much but—.”

“It is,” Mark cut in bluntly. He glanced up as soon as he said it and saw the hurt that flashed across Jackson’s face before the latter buried it. He regretted it as soon as the words were out, but now it was too late to take them back. The storm clouds have already gathered; rain was inevitable.

“Right,” Jackson took a deep breath. “Okay, then I guess I’ll just start.”

Mark was about ready to leap off his seat, but then Jackson _paused_ , and he really wasn’t sure if he could handle the pressure any longer.

“Is this about ending this um…relationship between us?” Mark asked in a rush. He couldn’t hold in the anxiety, and the words tumbled out like snow in an avalanche. The rumbling in his head was deafening.

Jackson froze, a deer in headlights right before the crash. “D-do _you_ want that?”

Maybe in another frame of mind, Mark would have relented, saying that if that’s what Jackson wanted then he would be fine with it. But today, right then, he was tired and cold and somewhat irritated. He wanted comfort and Jackson’s warmth around his body. He didn’t care if he was putting himself on the line; he wanted what he wanted, and that person was sitting right before him, close enough to reach out and touch.

“No. Never.” Mark bit his lip, awaiting Jackson’s response. It didn’t take long for the relief to flush over Jackson’s expression, softening the hard lines and shadows. “I thought that’s why you wanted me to come back so urgently.”

Jackson eagerly scooted halfway across the couch to barge right into Mark’s space, raiding the no man’s land between them. He collected up Mark’s hands into his and held them tight. Mark stared down at where their limbs were adjacent, his thigh pressed flush against Jackson’s. His body began to feel warm again, and he shivered, realizing for the first time the dampness of the clothes that clung to his skin. It wasn’t just apprehension, he really was cold.

“Hyung, are you okay?” Jackson asked when he felt Mark tremble beside him. Mark began to nod, but Jackson was faster, realizing the cause. He released Mark’s hand to reach for the towel on his lap. He swung the towel around to rest on Mark’s shoulders. Then he cuddled up beside Mark, squishing him against the armrest.

“I’m going to suffocate.”

“At least you’ll suffocate warm.”

Mark snorted. “Anyway, tell me whatever it is you wanted to say.”

“I wanted to talk about that night we got drunk together. If anything, I thought you’d be angry with _me_ and want to break up after you found out. But then Jinyoung-ie said that you already knew but didn’t say anything. And then I thought that maybe you were plotting some type of revenge against me for either doing that to you or for not telling you anything. Don’t worry though. I realized I am a fucking idiot because you’re basically a heaven-sent angel come to Earth to bless my wretched life and—.”

“Hold on, Jackson,” Mark interrupted, covering Jackson’s mouth with his palm. “Breathe.” He shifted his hand to hold Jackson’s jaw, thumbing at the smooth skin of his cheek. Jackson sucked in a gulp of air and released it slowly. 

“Why are you even still talking to me?” Jackson asked, leaning his head into Mark’s touch. Mark’s face softened at the vulnerable gesture. “Why didn’t you hate me after you found out that I took advantage of you when you blacked out?”

Mark tried to interject, but Jackson continued.

“I thought you regretted it at first, when you acted like nothing had happened. Then when I figured that you must not have remembered it… It really felt like I…like I _raped_ you, and I just—I hated myself for it. Sometimes it was so hard to even look at you, but Jinyoung would keep assuring me that that wasn’t the case.”

“He’s right. You didn’t take advantage of me,” Mark stressed. “It’s not like you knew about my amnesia problem. Plus, I had a couple…um…dreams after the event, and uh, if they are any indication of what really happened, then I was definitely very willing. With my current mindset as well…I’d still give my consent.”

“Still?” Jackson looked up at Mark, eyes roaming over his face for any indication of falsehood. His eyes were wide with apology, unintentionally creating the sweetest puppy eyes. 

“Still,” Mark affirmed. “I trusted you to tell me everything when you were ready.” His hand trailed down to cup Jackson’s nape, toying with the short buzzed hair at the base of his skull. 

Jackson licked his lips. His eyes lidded as he gazed down at Mark’s mouth. “Then…about what happened that night, can I show rather than tell?”

Mark’s lips turned up into a smile. “Yeah.”

Jackson tipped forward, bringing their lips together, and Mark melted backwards into the couch. His head landed somewhere on the armrest, and Jackson lunged forward to follow, like a wave to shore. He lapped into Mark’s mouth, tasting the remnants of his turkey sandwich. Jackson pulled back suddenly.

“Ah, I’m sorry for interrupting your lunch with Jaebum,” he said.

Mark looked confused for a second before his eyebrows furrowed. “Is now really the time?”

“Yeah, sorry. You’re right. God, you’re so cute when you pout.”

Jackson’s lips collided into Mark’s before the elder could protest. While using one arm to prop himself up, his free hand dove under Mark’s shirt, warming up his cool skin. He felt up the ridges of his ribs, mapping his way to Mark’s nipple. He circled his thumb around the nub, smirking as he felt Mark jolt underneath him. 

Shifting his thigh so that it rode up against Jackson’s crotch, Mark pulled Jackson down on top of him. He wrapped his arms around his neck, trying to feel as much of Jackson as he could. He could already feel himself hardening in his pants, and Jackson was definitely reflecting his reaction.

Mark sucked gently along the column of Jackson’s neck. His hands wandered toward Jackson’s waistband, but instead tugged at his shirt until the younger pulled away to discard the article of clothing. Now that Jackson’s skin was exposed, Mark spent his time tracing along the muscles of his back, admiring each flex as Jackson suspended himself above his body. 

“You are so perfect,” Jackson murmured against his lips. The rain was so loud outside that all other sound was obscured. Mark could only focus on the huskiness of Jackson’s voice rippling under his skin.

“No one’s perfect,” Mark pointed out. He gazed up at Jackson, so close that the latter blurred out of focus. “I’d say you come pretty damn close though.”

“Shut up,” Jackson grinned, clearly enjoying the compliment. 

Mark’s hand was skirting around Jackson’s bulge when the front door was suddenly banged open, and they heard feet in the entryway. Jackson didn’t even seem to notice, too enraptured in kissing Mark’s neck. Mark, meanwhile, utterly froze, mind racing as he thought through how _incriminating_ their positioning was while unable to move.

“Oh my fucking god!”

Jinyoung’s voice snapped Mark out of his strange deer in headlights moment. He rapidly pushed Jackson off of him and sat up. His shirt fell down with gravity so he looked semi-presentable. He cast his eyes down, shame weighing his gaze to the ground. He saw Jackson shifting awkwardly in his peripheral. God, he was glad his shirt was long enough to cover his obvious erection.

“Can you two _not_ do this where we watch television?” Jaebum grumbled.

“Really, I’m glad you two finally got together, but I think I’m scarred for life,” Bambam’s voice came wandering over. 

Mark whipped his head up. Did all three of them really have to come home at once? He was secretly hoping that it was just Jinyoung. Of all the people to catch them, he was probably the safest. He had, after all, listened to enough of their relationship to write a book about it. 

“Sorry, we got carried away,” Jackson said sullenly beside him. Mark glanced over at him. The younger looked like a kicked puppy, and all he wanted to do was kiss away the mortification.

Jaebum waved his hands abruptly, as if shooing them away. “Well, go now. Go do this somewhere else.”

Jackson nodded, standing up first. Mark was still trying to tense his leg muscles so that the blood would flow somewhere else. Jackson reached down for Mark’s hand, and they naturally interlocked their fingers. They headed back to their rooms, but the previous mood was shattered.

 

 

Nothing else sexual happened for the remainder of the week. They were both incredibly busy with practice and schedules, so the vacation that Jaebum had planned for the weekend was a godsend. Mark would be lying if he said he wasn’t pent up after getting blue balled and from the sheer lack of private time to handle his business by himself. While packing, he did tuck a secret tube of lube in among the clothes in his duffle bag. 

“Ready?” Jinyoung asked, poking his head in through the doorway.

Mark jumped, already on high alert for fear of getting caught. “Yeah, yes! Um, are the cars outside?”

“Yeah, I was sent to round everyone up.”

Mark wandered downstairs. When he realized he was the first one down, he loitered a bit by the cars, waiting for everyone else to arrive. He pretended to play on his phone, but his head shot up like instinct when Jackson came out the doors. Mark smiled at him shyly over Youngjae’s head, but Jackson’s eyes seemed to gloss over him. His smile fell, but his mind instantly tried to make excuses. Maybe Jackson was just kind of staring into the distance without really seeing what was in front of him. 

Still, Mark waited until Jackson’s eyes roamed toward his general direction again before he got into a car, hoping that Jackson would pick up the hint that he wanted to sit together. He didn’t. And Mark was continually disappointed with each new person that filled into the car with him. He frowned, gazing out the window as he caught sight of Jackson laughing while piling in with Bambam and Yugyeom to the other car. 

“What’s wrong?” Jinyoung asked, twisting his body so that he could face Mark from the middle aisle. Jaebum was still talking to the managers outside, and Youngjae already had his headphones on.

“Nothing,” Mark sighed.

“You wanted Jackson to sit with you, huh?” Jinyoung smiled sadly, and somehow Mark hated the expression on his face. He didn’t want Jinyoung’s pity; he didn’t need him to feel bad for his sake.

“Yeah,” he admitted anyway.

“I feel like you hated me for a while there. Back then. You saw me as competition, didn’t you?” 

Mark hummed noncommittally. 

“Hyung, I just want you to know that I’m always on your side.”

Mark met Jinyoung’s eyes again. “Thank you.”

Jinyoung nodded once before turning back around. Jaebum entered the car then, body hunched as he sauntered through to sit in the back with Mark. Their conversation ended there.

As Mark gazed out the window, he thought back to the past week, retracing his steps. He abruptly remembered that there was actually one chance they had a few days ago. The others went off to cool down after their dance practice. Mark had nudged Jackson who was sitting on the couch alone, suggestively asking if he wanted to go to the bathroom together, but the other had told him to go by himself, eyes never leaving his phone.

Today wasn’t the first day that Jackson had been avoiding him. 

 

The landscape was beautiful. No, that adjective was hardly enough to describe it. As Mark stepped out of the car, cramped from sitting for so long, the cool fresh air ran through him like ice water, purifying his body. He stared around at the greenery surrounding them and could see the white peaks of mountains in the distance. The inn itself was a rustic looking building constructed from weathered wood painted traditionally. The arched interior was compact like most old buildings, but also airy, welcoming in unadulterated sunlight from outside. 

When Mark received his room key—an actual metal key—he was thrilled to find out that Jinyoung had weaseled his way into assigning the rooms again. 

“I thought this would be reminiscent of when we first decided roommates when we debuted,” Jinyoung explained, but he cast Mark a wink that gave away his true intentions. Mark knew he would have to pay him back somehow.

“Aw, I wanted to room with Bambam,” Jackson’s whine filtered over the low buzz of voices in the lobby. 

Mark stiffened, jaw muscles tensed. His eyes had instantly flitted to where Jackson and Bambam stood to the side with Yugyeom. Jackson’s arm was snug around Bambam’s waist, and the younger’s eyes were huge as he stared guiltily at Mark. Bambam clearly noticed the tension thickening the air between them like starch.

Bambam opened his mouth to protest. “Jackson—.”

Mark flipped the key in his hand, trying to play it off cool. He interrupted, “You can go then. Crowd into one room for all I care,” he said, voice loud and clear. He avoided looking directly at Jackson. “I wouldn’t mind having a room completely to myself. It’s quieter that way. Maybe I’ll actually get some damn rest around here.”

Mark grabbed his bag and left the scene before he was trapped into hearing a response, from Jackson or the others. Perhaps he was being overly petty for exploding over Jackson’s lack of attention for him—no, he definitely was—but he needed some time alone to cool his head. The entire ride through the mountains had built this wild expectation for Jackson to pounce on him the moment he stepped out of the vehicle, peppering him with kisses and sweet words—clearly an impossible dream, considering their media popularity. But he wanted it. He desperately wanted Jackson’s eyes on him, his hands roaming over his skin.

 

It was relatively easy to find his room with the posted signs pointing down various hallways. Mark unlocked the door, swinging it open a little too roughly. He tried to ignore the two beds against the right wall that reminded him of his loneliness. Instead, he dropped his bag off in the corner, eyes drawn to the sunlit paper sliding door forming the furthest wall of the room. He pattered over after taking off his shoes, unhooked the lock, and slipped his fingers into the notch to pull the door to the side. 

Mark was instantly hit with a cool breeze and blinding sunshine. Squinting, he stepped out onto the rocky ground barefoot; the chill of the surface transferred into his skin. Just a few steps away was a small pool. Steam curled from the surface of the water, and the air vaguely smelled of sulfur. Where did Jaebum even find this place? It was amazing. Mark walked forward, bending down to dip his fingers into the hot water. God, he couldn’t wait to soak in this later tonight. 

As Mark stood to wipe his damp hand on his pants, he heard the grating sound of another door sliding open. Mark’s eyes followed the sound to the door adjacent to his open one. Bambam stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him. He nodded at Mark when their eyes met. He wandered over, taking in the scenery as he walked.

“You should really talk to Jackson,” Bambam suggested in a soft voice, as to not anger Mark.

Mark realized that his recent temper must have made the younger fear him in a way, to take caution when speaking.

“I’m sorry,” Mark said suddenly, “for everything. I know I got mad at you senselessly, especially back like weeks ago during dance practice. I flipped at you for no reason, and I’m truly sorry.”

Bambam nodded slowly throughout Mark’s speech, but an unexpected grin abruptly lit his face. “I know, hyung. Don’t worry about it. You were just jealous of Jackson and Jinyoung, weren’t you?”

“Was not!” Mark exclaimed, instantly defensive. “I just wasn’t feeling well that day.”

Bambam continued on, unfazed. “Y’know, I think that’s why Jackson said the whole thing about stopping the ships—because he got jealous when the fans preferred Markjin over—.”

The rumble of a door opening caught their attention, stopping Bambam mid-sentence. They both turned to stare at the same door that Bambam had come out of. 

“Hey, Bam, is it nice out there?” Jackson’s voice wafted out before his face came into sight. Mark was frozen at hearing the voice that always made him melt. 

He could only stare as Jackson’s body came into view, with his hand still on the door, looking just as startled to see Mark. Mark stirred back to life when the door halted in its track. He pursed his lips, fingers twisting into his jeans. ‘Unreasonable Mark’ came back into play then, shedding the moment of clarity for pursuing his baseless feelings of insecurity. Why? Because. This was more than Jackson interrupting his tête à tête with Bambam. Jackson really had taken him up on his less than polite suggestion, choosing to room with Bambam and Yugyeom instead of with him. 

Mark put a hand up to stop him from speaking. He wasn’t even sure if Jackson _was_ planning to, but he did it anyway. 

“You don’t have to say anything. I get it already. You guys are Jackbam. Don’t bother with me.” 

He stalked back into his own room to close the door and shut Jackson out of his thoughts like a spoiled child. He had sounded much more confident than he felt as he once again escaped before Jackson could reply. The image of Jackson, alone in the doorway, was burned into his retinas. He could analyze the drawn brows and slack lips for days and get utterly nowhere. Jackson would always greet Mark first. Although today was altogether different, if Mark factored in the surprise and accident of their meeting, Mark still felt worlds apart from the man he knew.

More than anything, Mark wanted things to be normal again. But normal would insinuate their mire of a friendship that stewed tension and unhappiness. Maybe he rather wished that they could move on past this pettiness and actually get somewhere with their relationship. They both got jealous far too easily and neither handled it like an adult. Jackson sought comfort in other people, and Mark walled himself off. Neither approach was healthy.

Mark stripped down to his underwear and fell onto the bed. There should still be a couple hours until dinner, and Mark could easily waste them away on his phone. Again, he was shutting the rest of the world out, but he didn’t care. He needed something to make him feel better, and social media was certainly a better option than alcohol, especially for him. 

However, lying atop his sheets with little to no clothing felt extraordinarily good. Maybe it was the quality of the sheets; maybe it was the oppressive tranquility of the room that settled on his body like a fog. More likely, it was the thought of Jackson right outside that thin door; close enough to hear, far enough to exacerbate the days apart. Mark reached down to grab himself over the fabric of his boxer briefs, the mere touch making his toes curl and his back arch. He stifled a needy moan into the pillow.

_Fuck, had it really been that long?_

Mark hurriedly yanked his boxers down his thighs, letting them settle at his knees. He took his steadily growing erection into his hand, the skin on skin contact eliciting a heavy breath. He closed his eyes, imagining someone else’s hands on him. Mark had long since neglected thoughts of the standard cute girl next door sucking down his cock like a closet slut. Instead, his imagination immediately placed gold rings on those fingers, connected muscular arms to the torso of Jackson Wang. 

But today he felt lonelier than ever, and such thoughts only left him feeling empty. Kicking off his undergarments, Mark grabbed his phone with the intention of finding a porn video to direct his thoughts away from his heart and down toward his dick. 

Clicking the home button, he turned the screen on. Awaiting him were a series of messages from Jinyoung and one missed call. He frowned as he unlocked his phone, realizing he had switched his phone to silent on the ride there. He tapped the green icon flashing “6” in bright red.

Jinyoung [16:43]: Mark-hyung.  
Jinyoung [16:44]: Are you by your phone? We need to talk.  
Jinyoung [16:48]: I’m serious. Don’t sulk in your room alone. I found something important online.  
Jinyoung [16:55]: MARK! HYUNG! It’s about Jackson.  
Jinyoung [16:57]: Okay, well, somewhat related. It explains a lot, anyway.  
Jinyoung [16:59]: I’m going to have to ask Jackson what your room number is if you don’t answer your damn phone. I’ll politely assume you aren’t by your phone, so I’m giving you five minutes to respond.

The time read 17:08.

In less than a moment, there was a knock at the door. Wide eyed, Mark scrambled off the bed. He flipped up his erection so that it wouldn’t stick out like a flag between his legs and pulled on a pair of sweatpants to tuck the offending organ into the waistband. He bit his lip at the rough texture against his glans. 

There was a second, more insistent knock. Mark yelled that he was coming as he rushed to open the bolt, nearly tripping over his own shoes in the hallway. Finally the door was opened. Mark leaned on his hip while he took in Jinyoung’s typical button down and jeans combo. The younger looked posed to knock a third time, his expression taut with impatience.

Jinyoung’s battle-ready expression faltered as soon as he took in Mark’s exposed form and disheveled hair. 

“Did you two already make up? I’m not interrupting something, am I? I didn’t hear any strange noises as I was walking down the hall.”

“Only my internal anguish, or rather, as you put it, my ‘sulking’.”

“Don’t be like that,” Jinyoung tsk’ed, letting himself in past Mark’s guard at the door. Mark worried if the room smelled like sex, a telltale giveaway to Mark’s solo hand party, but Jinyoung’s expression did not morph into one of disgust. Instead, he tapped Mark’s poorly defined arm on his way inside. “Instead of locking yourself in your room, you should exercise.” 

“Is now really the time to berate my body?” Mark quickly trailed behind Jinyoung. His heart nearly fell out of his body when he saw his underwear dangling off the edge of the bed furthest from them.

Jinyoung sat himself on the corner of the unused bed, unnoticing. He gave Mark a straight expression. “I’m always here to keep your narcissism in check.”

“Hey! What narcissism? Anyway,” Mark shook his head, “why are you even here?” Mark toed around Jinyoung. His boxers were positioned so that Jinyoung could only see the navy fabric, not the blaring CALVIN KLEIN inscription on the elastic that was facing the door to the shared hot spring.

“Ah, yes. Have you checked the fansites recently?”

“What? No, I’ve been too busy. Why?”

Jinyoung sighed. “There’s a bit of speculation online. It’s nothing major—since a single lunch date between friends is clearly not enough data to form a real scandal— _but_ you know how the fans get sometimes.”

“Lunch date…? You mean with Jaebum? But that wasn’t a date,” Mark said, baffled. He leaned against the wall opposite Jinyoung, crossing his arms. “And we basically talked about Jackson the entire time.”

“You should really see the pictures. With you two leaning close to each other, heads bent, sharing the same air… Well, the pictures are spreading all over Twitter in any case.”

“Do you have it? Let me see,” Mark demanded. He added as an afterthought, “Please.”

Jinyoung rolled his eyes at Mark’s attempt at politeness, but handed him his phone nonetheless. The picture was glaring on Jinyoung’s too-bright screen in the curtained room. Mark stared at the way he propped his head on his hand over the table. From the angle, his lips disappeared behind Jaebum’s head. Who knew what they were doing? He flipped to the right and each new picture almost seemed worse than the previous. Being there, he knew there was no chemistry sparking in the slightest, but the angle of these shots really begged the question, especially with that loving glow burning in Mark’s eyes as he stared ahead.

“So I was thinking that maybe _his_ is the reason why Jackson is…finding company with other people.”

“You make it sound like he’s cheating,” Mark tried to joke, but the words came out stiff. 

“He’s like a big dog. Loyal to the bone,” Jinyoung assessed, refuting Mark’s comment. “He wouldn’t.”

Mark plopped down next to Jinyoung on the bed carelessly, leaning his head on his shoulder. He stared at the paper screen of the wall opposite them. “What should I do, Jinyoung-ie?”

“You should probably do something about that _thing_ in your pants,” Jinyoung noted offhandedly.

“The thing in my…?” The dots connected in Mark’s brain, and he looked down in a panic, head flying off of Jinyoung’s shoulder. Sure enough, where Mark had flipped up his boner to flatten the bulge, he had forgotten to ensure that it wouldn’t reach up _past_ the waistband of his sweats when he sat down. He quickly covered his swollen head and adjusted his pants upward; his cheeks were burning. “Don’t tell anyone about this. I swear, I’ll k—.”

“Now, now. I knew that I was interrupting something, but I never would have thought it would be that,” Jinyoung commented, making no promises whatsoever.

Yet, no matter how uncaring Jinyoung seemed, Mark noticed the pink flush blossoming across his cheeks with a smirk. He prodded him. “You don’t hate what you see, huh?”

Jinyoung ignored him, swiftly resuming the previous topic with a pointed glare to shut up Mark’s greasiness. “Jackson should understand that nothing happened between you and Jaebum. He’s just being ridiculous right now. I know I blamed you for sulking, but he’s honestly worse. He isn’t even talking to me anymore.”

“Not even you?” Mark turned his head to the side.

Jinyoung sighed, wrapping an arm around Mark’s bare shoulders, pulling him close. He pressed Mark’s head down to rest against his own, using his fingers to stroke through his hair comfortingly.

“Not even me,” he repeated. “I guess I could go and try to get Bambam and Yugyeom to help, but they’re a bit…”

“Yeah,” Mark agreed. He chewed at his bottom lip. “I think I’ll just—.”

“MARK!” The screen door to his room suddenly slammed open, flooding the room with afternoon sunlight. “Listen, about earlier, could I—oh my god!”

Mark blearily lifted his head, squinting at where Jackson stood, backlit by the setting sun. The light turned the edges of his brown hair gold, and although his face was in shadow, he looked purely angelic. 

“Jackson?” Mark asked, voice unusually tender. He couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips. He forgot about all the lacerations carving their bond to pieces; he didn’t even think about the recent iciness on Jackson’s part. He was simply happy to see Jackson again, even after such a short period.

Jinyoung’s hand dropped from its place in Mark’s hair, and the man himself shifted a few inches away from where Mark sat on the bed. He looked down nervously, clearly grasping more of the improperness of the situation than Mark. Unlike Mark, he had caught how Jackson’s eyes flitted from Mark’s bare chest to where his clothes were hastily flung around the room. Jackson was in the perfect line of sight to that blaring logo on Mark’s underpants.

“Uh,” Jackson stammered, stepping back a little. He hesitated in the doorway, the divide between confronting and fleeing.

“Weren’t you going to say something?” Mark tilted his head. He grew concerned at Jackson’s itch to escape. 

“Uh, actually, it was nothing. Sorry, I’ll leave you two alone now.”

“Jackson-hyung,” Jinyoung said abruptly, stopping the man in his tracks. “You don’t have to leave. I should go. Talk to Mark-hyung, please. And make sure he gets dressed like a respectable person.”

Jinyoung stood, straightening out his pants. He placed his palm on Mark’s head, ruffling his hair. He mouthed ‘good luck’ and left promptly. Jackson remained, loitering awkwardly as they heard the front door click shut.

“Gaga,” Mark called out affectionately. “Close the door and come over.” He patted the now-empty space beside him. Jackson shuffled over but sat on the opposite bed. Their eyes didn’t meet across the gap.

“Mark…why aren’t you wearing anything?”

“What do you mean? I have pants on,” he protested.

“Well, I’d rather you wear more when you’re going to invite other men to your room,” Jackson muttered.

“Oh, really?” Mark opened his mouth in mock shock. “And _who_ is the one famous for prancing around on stage without a shirt? Not to mention walking around the dorms practically naked.”

“You’re practically naked right now! You don’t even have underwear on.”

Mark’s mouth fell open. “How—?” 

Jackson jerked his head back to where Mark’s boxers lay like a fallen soldier.

“I wasn’t expecting guests, okay?”

Jackson sighed, turning his head to the side. “Fine.”

“I was wearing less earlier anyway.” Mark grinned. He rose suddenly, sauntering over to stand between Jackson’s spread knees. With Jackson’s head at chest-level, Mark used his index finger to tilt the younger’s head up by the chin. Their eyes met fully. “So what did you want to talk about? Are you done seeking out other people when I’m right here waiting for you?” 

“That was—! Okay, yeah, well, I thought that would’ve been a better alternative to yelling at you and getting in another argument.” 

“You promised me you’d never leave me. You said you’d protect me,” Mark murmured, fingernails raking over Jackson’s scalp. He watched the way the younger shuddered under the sharp sensation. “Then you just left. You didn’t even tell me what I did.”

“I’m guessing Jinyoung sleuthed out the answer and told you?” Jackson looked up at him with his large, round eyes.

“Pretty much.”

“Am I just being unreasonable then? Please say I am. Please tell me there’s nothing going on between you and Jaebum-hyung.”

“There isn’t,” Mark rolled his eyes. “Jaebum-ie isn’t even my type.”

“What is your type?” Mark began to reply, but Jackson continued. “And don’t give me your standard interview-ready answer.”

Mark’s mouth snapped shut. His eyebrows wrinkled. “Fine. Well, I don’t like someone who’s chic, first of all. I’d rather they be down to earth.”

“Check,” Jackson decided for himself.

“Hey, I really don’t know, okay? I’m not that…experienced with these kinds of things. I just like what I like—like _who_ I like.”

“And the people you find attractive?”

“Clearly you made the cut,” Mark teased.

Jackson hummed then went quiet. “You still want me, right? Even though I’m ridiculous and I get jealous easily.”

“I do,” he mumbled. “Why wouldn’t I? I’m the same.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Mark nodded imperceptibly, but Jackson got his real answer from the tightening fingers at the base of his head to hold him steady as their lips sought contact. Mark bent down while Jackson stretched up; they met in the middle, practiced with their passion to avoid clicking teeth. 

Jackson’s tongue entered Mark’s mouth, tasting the junk food the latter had eaten earlier in the car. It was oily and sweet, but Jackson was hardly thinking about that. He was rather preoccupied with satiating his longing for the pressure of Mark’s lips on his. It had only been a week, but he missed this. Maybe he was going crazy.

Jackson reached his hand around Mark to rest lightly on the curve of his ass. His fingertips rubbed over the fabric, pressing into Mark’s flesh and making him shiver. Jackson’s fingers trailed lower toward his thighs and snuck between his legs, venturing north and into Mark’s sensitive spot.

Mark abruptly broke away.

“Jackson-ah, you w-want me too, right?” Mark asked, hiccupping when Jackson’s fingers pressed gently into his balls. He grabbed Jackson’s shoulders to steady his weakening knees. He was sure Jackson could see the bulge in his sweatpants, and that only embarrassed him further.

Jackson’s eyes met his, dark and full of lust. “Is that even a question?” he responded, voice husky like when he tried to show off to the fans.

Mark whined, “That’s not an answer.” 

Jackson slipped off the bed, landing on his knees. Mark gasped and took a step backwards to give him room. Jackson clutched Mark by the thigh, preventing further retreat. When Mark no longer looked like he was going to move, Jackson’s hands trailed up to Mark’s hips. Now there was definitely no way Jackson would miss Mark’s erection pulling at the thin fabric, and Mark didn’t even know where to look in his humiliation. Looking down at Jackson meant seeing the younger at fucking eye-level with the offending organ.

“I like you, Mark Tuan. So of course I would want you,” Jackson stated as if it were a fact written in stone.

A pleasant thrill ran down Mark’s spine. He loved that certainty Jackson possessed, the way he made his target feel wanted indefinitely. Of course, he hated when that spotlight attention was directed toward someone else, but he had to come to accept that Jackson functioned differently from him, required more response from others. 

Just as his mind began to wander down darker paths, Jackson halted all conscious thought. The sight of the wet stain decorating the front of that light gray fabric had nearly done Jackson in; he _needed_ to see what was lying trapped underneath. He yanked Mark’s sweatpants down to his knees, and the garment fell the rest of the way to his feet. Jackson licked his lips as Mark’s erection fell forward toward his face. He first glanced up for permission, but Mark was more than eager, lip bitten, ears flushed. Mark’s hands found Jackson’s head again, urging him forward. 

Jackson used his tongue to catch Mark’s cock into his mouth. He slurped around the head, eyes closed and just enjoying. It had been so long since he felt Mark weighing heavy on his tongue. It was fucking heaven. He sucked down hard, not even using his hands as he let Mark hit the back of his throat. Mark groaned audibly above him, and that only spurred him on. 

“Jackson-ah, wait a sec. Let me—ahh, fuck—let me do you too,” Mark suggested.

Jackson shook his head. “No way. This is my apology for ignoring you all week.”

He then took Mark all the way to the base, nose buried in Mark’s pubic hair. Mark doubled over in shock, mind blanking at the sheer pleasure of Jackson’s wet heat swallowing around his engorged length. 

“Jackson, seriously, please,” Mark panted, regretting his words as soon as Jackson pulled back. The cool air conditioning hit his hot skin, and he just wanted Jackson back on his cock. But he had plans. “Just pause.”

Mark briefly considered pulling his pants back on but figured it wasn’t worth it. He kicked them off as he crossed the room to his duffle bag. He rifled through its contents, painfully aware of Jackson’s eyes boring into his bare ass where he was bent over.

“You can continue,” Mark turned around, glancing pointedly at Jackson’s tented crotch. 

He returned back to digging through his stuff as Jackson unzipped his jeans. Jackson reached into his pants to take out his dick. He stroked it a few times, admiring how Mark’s backside wriggled as he searched. Jackson never imagined that one day he would be studying another man’s ballsack with his own cock in his hand. 

“Sorry I didn’t bring condoms. I didn’t know how to get around to buying any with all the people who follow us around,” Mark said over his shoulder. 

“I don’t mind as long as you’re okay,” Jackson said. “Last time I just used one that I’ve had since predebut.” 

Who would honestly mind going bareback into someone that sexy and completely untouched? He could cum just to the thought of Mark’s walls wrapping directly around his length, sucking him in deep. After their fingering trials, Jackson had gotten quite acquainted with the supple ridges inside of Mark. Feeling it around his cock once more, without the blurring haze of alcohol, would be the death of him. 

Mark finally found the shirt that he had rolled his inconspicuous bottle of lube into. He held it up victoriously before tossing it to Jackson.

“You actually brought lube?” Jackson asked incredulously. He took the bottle from Mark and squeezed a little onto his fingertips. He squished his fingers together tentatively, feeling the viscous liquid squirm between them.

“Well, unlike you,” Mark pouted, “I was actually hoping we’d share a room and like…you know…get some private time to spend together.”

“You’re kinda crazy,” Jackson said, not harshly, but rather appreciatively. His attention was drawn to the lean form of Mark’s completely nude body, studying every curve and angle bared to him. His eyes followed the muscular V of Mark’s abdomen, a teasing line down to his crotch where his erection rose proud with a bright pink flush at the head.

“I’m not crazy,” Mark folded his arms over his chest. He studied how Jackson’s cock peeped out from the open zipper of his jeans. “Who’s the one kneeling on the floor with his dick out?”

Mark sat on the bed facing Jackson with his legs immodestly spread open.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way but… The others are right next door. Doing this is a little…” Jackson trailed off. He crawled forward as if magnetized to Mark’s cock, his own warning be damned.

Mark leaned back on an arm, utterly satisfied as Jackson licked a stripe up the underside of his length. “As long as you’re quiet.” 

“Shouldn’t I be telling you that?” Jackson smirked haughtily, reaching lower to slip his lubed middle finger past Mark’s ring of muscles. Mark’s eyes widened at the contact, body arching into the touch. 

“Ahhn…Jackson, not so suddenly,” Mark moaned out. 

There was the curling tone of a sneer in his voice as he retorted, “Just try not to make too much noise.”

Mark nodded earnestly, and Jackson pushed the rest of his finger in. It had been over a week since Jackson had been inside Mark, and the latter had gotten unbelievably tight. Mark’s mouth fell open in a silent scream. He latched his teeth into his bottom lip as he forced his voice back down his throat. Jackson studied Mark’s reactions silently, wishing for those teeth on him.

“Shit, Mark, have you not touched yourself down here at all?” Jackson asked, pulling out. He stood, pushing Mark back into the bed and following to hover over him.

“Nope.” Mark placidly let himself get pushed back, eyes never leaving Jackson’s as his lips popped the ‘p’ sound. 

Mark grabbed Jackson by the belt loops, forcing the younger’s exposed dick to ride against his own. Jackson let out a strangled gasp in surprise. The friction of their clothes was increasingly rough against his skin, and Mark just wanted them _off_. He shoved Jackson into the bed and straddled his hips while he was still dazed. He hiked up Jackson’s shirt, revealing his toned chest. Mark sat back against Jackson’s raised knee. 

His eyes said it all as he appraised the view underneath him: _you’re so sexy._

Jackson turned his head to the side, a carmine pigment painting his cheeks, hair fanned out in a sultry mess. “How can you give me that look when you’re like _that_ on top of me?” He peeked out of the corner of his eye at how Mark’s bare thighs nicely framed his clothed hips, how the rosy blush at Mark’s ears spread down his chest to highlight his perky nipples.

“What are you saying? You have the better body in this relationship,” Mark pointed out.

“I-I… I like your body too,” Jackson replied lamely. How could Mark make him so damn inarticulate? He would have smacked his own forehead if he were alone and not fitted perfectly underneath the most beautiful man in the world.

“Thanks,” Mark said with a crooked smile. He ran the palm of his hand flat across Jackson’s chest, right over his nipple with no remorse. His eyes flitted to the right, feigning innocence. “So…will you room with me this weekend? I do have an extra bed, you know.” He jerked his head over to the bed closer to the back door.

Jackson chuckled. “I don’t think that bed’s going to be used much anyway.”

“Fair point.” 

Jackson sat up, almost knocking Mark off of his lap. Jackson steadied him with a hand on the small of his back. Mark grabbed onto his waist, and Jackson threw his shirt off. Mark almost whistled at the show right before his eyes. 

Jackson noticed the heated stare on his body. He leaned forward, filling Mark’s space with his presence. As he leaned forward for a kiss, he busied his hands with Mark’s chest, teasing the little pink nubs. 

“Jackson, more,” Mark pleaded, pressing his hips down, and Jackson succumbed.

Jackson roughly palmed down Mark’s abdomen to the velvety smooth skin of Mark’s erection. He gave him a few gratuitous tugs before seeking out his hole from behind. Falling backwards, he brought Mark with him to lie on his chest. He grabbed two handfuls of Mark’s ass, hiking his body upward. 

Mark yelped when he was manhandled, unable to comprehend how Jackson was moving so fast. Two slick fingers suddenly teased his entrance, and he jolted, nearly head-butting Jackson. Mark’s fingers curled into the sheets beside Jackson’s head to prepare himself for the stretch. As Jackson pressed in, however, he moaned wantonly, the imminent pain forgotten.

Mark grabbed onto Jackson’s biceps, moving his body forward so that he could rut against him. He felt the hardness of Jackson’s cock riding against his own, but the feeling was muffled compared to Jackson exploring his depths. His eyes slipped shut as he aligned them, biting his lip in focus. Jackson was still pumping two fingers inside of him, searching for his prostate without luck. 

“G-g-go a little higher,” Mark instructed with a shaky voice. Jackson wedged his fingers in until the webs of his hands pressed against Mark’s rim. “And then…nngh…p-press down a little bit—ah shit!” Mark squeezed his eyes shut as white-hot pleasure rocketed through him. His teeth lodged into Jackson’s skin as he choked down his moan.

“I hit it?” Jackson asked inquiringly, but his knowing smile gave him away.

“Fuck you—ahhn…yes,” Mark cursed Jackson’s arrogance. He leveled Jackson’s smirk with a glare as he sat back, shoving Jackson’s fingers deep inside of him and throwing his head back as the sensation jolted through him. He rode Jackson’s fingers where they lay over his stomach, feigning riding his cock like a fucking exhibition.

Jackson gazed hungrily at the column of Mark’s neck, pale and defenseless. He followed his instincts, latching onto Mark’s skin with his teeth. He pushed Mark backwards, causing him to topple down from his perch on Jackson’s lap to the mattress. 

“Um,” Mark bit his pink lip, “I don’t think this is how normal people lie on beds. Heads are supposed to go on the pillows over on that side.”

“To hell with normal people,” Jackson growled, nearly ripping off his jeans in his haste. “You’re rarely this talkative. What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Mark mused as Jackson reintroduced his fingers into his hole, three this time. Mark’s body arched up off the mattress when Jackson found his prostate on the first attempt. “I-I just feel really…good, like everything just feels _right_. But mostly I’m just embarrassed, and this is all maybe, probably, most likely just nervous chatter.”

“Because of me?” Jackson asked sincerely. He wasn’t pretending to be cocky or greasy. There was a tender look in his eyes that melted the chocolate of his irises. It was pure.

“Yeah,” Mark squinted slightly, realizing how accurate that was, that Jackson was the cause of the bubbling of his hyperactive emotions. He reached up to trail his fingers down the side of Jackson’s face just to touch the man that he had been crushing on for years. Mark felt light stubble along his jaw, breathed in the tantalizing scent of his cologne, and watched how his reddened lips parted in pleasant surprise. Mark realized that, despite their mutual stupidity and blunderings, he didn’t want anything else more in the world. “Yeah, exactly that.”

“Mark, I-I-I know that this, um, may not really be the best time,” Jackson stammered, “since like I’m inside of you and I’m like really, really hard, but I need to, uh, tell you that I think I—.”

“Wait!” Mark suddenly exclaimed, hands flying up to cover Jackson’s mouth. “Don’t say it.”

Jackson’s eyebrows drew together in dejected confusion. 

“Please. I don’t want to talk about that when we’re…like this.” Mark looked down at their entwined forms. He blushed at the sight of precum beading at his urethra. “Tell me later. Tell me after. Jackson, right now, just do me. Make me forget everything else. I’m sorry I can’t recall our first time. I really—.”

“Don’t be, hyung. Remember this instead.”

Mark bit his lip. “Then fuck me until I won’t need that memory.”

“You really want that?” Jackson asked, rolling his hips forward to press the head of his cock against Mark’s wet entrance. “Want me to fuck you until you don’t even know what’s coming out of your mouth? Until you’re a moaning mess underneath me?”

“Please,” Mark begged. 

Jackson lifted Mark’s thigh up to his chest, bending his body in half. Mark pulled Jackson down on top of him, bringing his face close for a kiss. Meanwhile, Jackson blindly tried to insert his cock into Mark’s waiting hole. Mark felt the entire route as Jackson first hit his perineum then carefully made his way down. As Jackson pushed in, Mark almost forgot to breathe. Even just the head of his cock was wider than three of his fingers. 

They were so close that Jackson spoke directly against Mark’s mouth. “Mark, I—.”

Time slowed then. Mark was fully conscious of Jackson’s presence half inside of him, his boiling heat radiating off of his skin, his eyes that were centimeters from his, but there was something else pulling at his focus. In the corner of his mind, he was becoming ghastly aware that there was the sound of a door being slid open to his left. Mark offhandedly debated between turning his head to investigate the source of the sound and remaining frozen there to lose himself in the depth of Jackson’s brown eyes. Mark obviously chose the latter. 

However, the moment was shattered instantly, regardless, when a loud shriek came from the doorway of his room that was previously closed and was meant to stay closed. 

Mark jolted, accidentally squeezing tight around Jackson, who then groaned. Their heads bumped when Mark turned to see Yugyeom’s horrified and retreating form. 

“Jackson! Someone—aish!” 

Clearly still lost in the moment, Jackson abruptly barged the rest of the way inside. Mark struggled to get up so that he could gauge Jackson’s reaction, but his cock was buried snug against his prostate and the pleasure that rocketed through him was unforgiving. 

“J-Jacks—wh-what are you—?” Mark paused when Jackson stilled inside of him, all the way to the hilt, and then his cock _twitched_. Mark’s eyes widened, rapidly realizing what was happening. Jackson let out a short groan as hot fluid spurted out, coating Mark’s walls. Mark was too stunned to even elbow Jackson off of him and scold him for cumming inside, all that buildup culminating to…nothing.

Eventually, Jackson’s eyes cleared, and through the blurry haze of pleasure, he grasped what he had just done.

“Oh, shit,” he gasped, pulling out of Mark in a hurry. Mark hissed at the too sudden movement and clenched up involuntarily. “Ah! I’m so sorry! Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, right?”

“Jackson, the door is open,” Mark said, still wincing as he propped himself up on his arm. 

Jackson looked over, and his eyes turned into saucers. He scrambled off of the bed at light speed to slide the door shut. When it was closed, he leaned his back against it for extra measure. 

“D-did it open on its own?”

“Yeah, you idiot. I forgot to mention that there’s a gay ghost haunting the place. He likes to pop in on particularly raunchy endeavors,” Mark snapped.

“Then who…?” Jackson asked, his dreaded curiosity beating his offense at Mark’s bad mood. He warily approached the bed like one would a wild animal. An angry Mark was a dangerous Mark.

“Yugyeom caught us. You didn’t hear him scream?” Mark scowled where he was propped up on his elbow. He was hard and upset.

Jackson sat awkwardly at the edge of the bed. “No, I-I-I must have gotten too caught up in…um…” 

“In my ass apparently. I do still have your fucking cum up there.”

Jackson scowled at Mark’s profanity. “I said I was sorry. Why are you being like this?”

“Sorry if I’m a little irritated, but the idea of someone _else_ seeing us doesn’t sit well with me. God, I thought my heart was going to give out.” Mark calmed down by the end of his spiel. He collapsed onto the bed in defeat, hanging his head between his shoulders to stare at the ceiling. “Not to mention this is the second time I’ve gotten blue-balled in the last few days, and I haven’t had time to masturbate for a week.”

“Hey, I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.” Jackson leaned forward, raking his fingers through Mark’s hair as he kissed down his neck sweetly.

Mark, however, still had something to say. “But like I barely even touched you and you were done. Don’t tell me you were that fast the…the first time we did it.” He stuttered at the end there, unsure what to call that night.

Jackson pulled back but kept Mark at arm’s length. “No, I was really drunk then, so, less hard despite how sexy you were being. Though, to be fair, I usually last a lot longer than this.”

“Anything would be ‘a lot longer’ than this.” Mark saw Jackson’s stricken expression before his own softened. He was pretty miffed, but that was no reason to pick at the scab bleeding Jackson’s embarrassment. As a guy, he could easily imagine how mortifying it would be to finish before your partner. He placed his hand high on Jackson’s thigh. “I’m kidding, okay? Don’t look so down. It’s like I kicked a puppy.”

“You basically did,” Jackson pouted. He jumped onto Mark’s chest and licked the tip of his nose. “Aroo~”

“Ugh!” Mark reeled away, acting disgusted. He wiped off Jackson’s slobber, but his smile showed that he didn’t really mind. 

“Now, let’s continue,” Jackson said, shoving Mark back onto the bed. He shuffled down Mark’s fallen body before the elder could respond. He placed Mark’s thighs over his shoulders and hooked his arms underneath. Like this, he grasped Mark’s erection and took him into his mouth. The elder had barely softened through the course of their conversation. Jackson smiled. No matter how annoyed Mark seemed, he still wanted this.

Mark sat up on shaky arms to watch Jackson as the latter forced his cock down his throat. He pet his hair endearingly, eyes focused on Jackson’s spit-slick lips gliding up and down his length. Jackson made little gagging noises that only turned Mark on more.

“So,” Mark began, voice surprisingly stable, even to him. “Were you saying that _I_ made you ejaculate early?”

“There’s no one else sitting on this bed,” Jackson pointed out with his mouth full.

“Agh, don’t talk while you do it! I feel like you’re going to bite my dick off.”

Jackson brought his head up. In English, he attested, “I would never, _ever_ harm this piece of art.”

“Why are you so weird?” Mark gasped softly when Jackson continued his ministrations, sucking down his length like it was a lolly.

“I’m not weird. I just appreciate art when I see it.”

Mark began to retort, but Jackson’s probing fingers at his entrance made a moan slip out instead. Jackson pushed two fingers in, scissoring immediately to give Mark the same stretch as before. Mark let his worries about being seen fade away as his need to release climbed. It had been accumulating for so long, and Jackson seemed ready to suck the life out of him.

This was wholly different from their tentative hookups where everything was a race, a competition to get the other to submit. This was loving and deliberate, and it was slutty as hell, exceeding Mark’s private fantasies. Jackson held nothing back in the sounds he made and the visual he displayed. He let his saliva drool down Mark’s length and chased after it sloppily. The excess trailed teasingly down the line of Mark’s balls to his ass where it was caught by Jackson’s fingers and shoved in, joining the slick slide of Jackson’s semen deep inside.

“Oh god…” was all Mark could utter between moans as he was taken over the edge.

After a few minutes, the pleasure winding around and around in a tightening coil, Mark pushed Jackson’s head off with a garbled warning. Jackson took up relentlessly stroking Mark with his free hand until the elder arched up with a cry, spilling over Jackson’s knuckles. 

“Oh my—ahh fuck…” Mark panted, spasms jolting through him like live wire. Jackson’s hand remained on his cock, warm and too much, and he could feel his cum leaking all over himself, not that he cared about much at this point.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jackson said as he rubbed at Mark’s inner walls, watching in fascination as each jab at his prostate made Mark’s sated body lurch up with a heated cry.

“Jackson, please, get it out,” Mark whimpered. “It’s—I can’t take it.”

Jackson complied, ruefully removing his hands from where Mark was rippling in sensitivity; he wanted to touch him more. He stared for a moment at his left hand covered with Mark’s seed before bringing it to his mouth out of curiosity. 

“Jackson! Don’t!” Mark nearly shrieked, but Jackson already had his tongue in the thick white fluid. “It’s been a week since I last came. The taste is going to be even stronger.”

“You know I tasted it while I was sucking you off, right? You were leaking precum like crazy.” 

Mark could only blush in response. 

“It does seem to taste better this time though.”

“Well I have been eating healthier. Less red meats and caffeine, more fruit,” Mark admitted, abashed.

Jackson hummed, licking up more of the mess on his hand. Then he stopped. “Wait. Is that why you’ve been losing weight??”

Mark’s eyes widened. “Oh…maybe.”

“You mean you didn’t know?”

“Not really,” Mark shrugged.

“Hyung, you’re unbelievable,” Jackson said, standing up to run off to the bathroom. He returned with a handful of tissues. He began gently wiping down Mark’s stomach and around his groin. “Don’t think about stuff like that. You should eat more. The fans worry. _I_ worry.”

“I didn’t realize that was why.” 

“You should be more conscious of your own body, hyung.”

“That’s why I have you,” Mark patted the top of Jackson’s head. “Now get off of me so I can clean inside.”

“Shouldn’t I do it?” Jackson ventured, sitting back on his heels. “I have a better vantage point.”

“No, I got it,” Mark said, snatching the tissues from out of Jackson’s hand.

“But I feel responsible,” he protested. 

Mark ignored him, lying back with his knees raised. He reached down between his thighs to finger himself open. He kept his other hand stationed below to catch the leakage. Jackson could only watch with a gaping mouth as Mark closed his eyes in focus, twisting his fingers around in search of fluid to scrape out. He let soft moans filter into the air between them.

When Mark was done, Jackson was half-hard, red in the face, and staunchly looking in the other direction to calm himself down.

“What’s wrong?” Mark asked coyly. He totally knew what he was doing. He also knew that Jackson had wanted an excuse to feel the inside of his ass again.

“I can’t stand you,” Jackson grumbled. He turned back around and caught Mark biting his lip as he looked up at him. That broke his resolve. He threw himself onto the bed, thus tackling Mark in the process. Jackson wrapped his arms around Mark’s midsection and rested his head on Mark’s chest. 

“So you decide to lie on top of me?” Mark joked, making a pun.

“Yeah, my knees get all weak when I see you.”

“Maybe you’d feel better if you were on them more.”

Jackson froze at the insinuation until his heart started pumping again, five times faster. “Mark, dirty!” he chastised. He slapped Mark’s chest with his open palm.

Mark could only laugh at Jackson’s silly embarrassment, considering what they had just finished doing. But then, in this brief lull in conversation, his thoughts arbitrarily reeled back to what Jackson had said earlier, that he didn’t _usually_ finish this quickly. It was true that in their past exploits Jackson was totally fine, but his words had indicated full intercourse _with someone else_. Mark went silent. Why did he always have to overthink when things were beginning to look up?

“Mark?” Jackson lifted his head. His instincts had picked up the shift in mood. “What’s wrong?”

“You’ve done this kind of stuff with other people,” Mark stated as barely a question. “Sex, I mean.”

“Well, yeah…in the past,” Jackson admitted slowly.

“I um… Sorry, I guess it doesn’t make any sense for me to worry about that stuff. It’s not like I can change anything,” Mark brushed off. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Jackson said, wiggling up to lie beside him. “I get jealous, too, when I consider all the admirers you must have had while growing up thousands of miles away from my reach.”

“I did not,” Mark rolled his eyes.

“Still,” Jackson continued, “I feel sad whenever I realize that I didn’t have the chance to see you grow up. I wonder what you were like in elementary school, what changed you into who you are today. I think about the kind of people you befriended, who you had crushes on, big or small. I wish we could’ve gone to a football game together or I could’ve asked you to a school dance.”

“I would’ve said no,” Mark considered with depressing certainty. He caught the hurt that flashed through Jackson’s eyes. “Don’t get me wrong. Societal perception of these types of relationships has really changed within the last decade. If I liked you back then—which yeah, I probably would have—I’d have been so confused. I was still confused when I met you.”

“Hold up. _Probably_?”

“Most likely,” Mark corrected. Then he smiled. “Definitely.” 

Jackson hummed contentedly beside him. They lay like that for a while, just listening to each other breathe while the residual waves of pleasure ran off.

“I wonder what Yugyeom wanted,” Jackson brought up randomly.

“I hope it wasn’t important.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there was so much tension resolving here! i hope it was cute at least ^^ sorry the lackluster ending was kinda a tease~ this chapter was supposed to be longer, but then the editing got out of control and i split it into two parts. thus, the next chapter will most likely be shorter and basically all sex. it’ll be an epilogue, of sorts.
> 
> also!! i made a little markson fmv if you'd like to check it out: https://www.instagram.com/p/BXhNOnDjCwx/?taken-by=caelestria_0


	4. dawn (by your side)

It turned out that Yugyeom had come to inform them about their group dinner. Jinyoung came knocking at their door half an hour later when the two hadn’t shown up. He muttered something about clawing his eyes out when he witnessed the unkempt state they were in. 

“Can you be any more obvious?” he pinched at the bridge of his nose. “Just get dressed in the robes and let’s go.”

Jackson glanced at how fucked out Mark looked, leaning on one hip with his hair tousled and lips bitten, and yeah, Jinyoung was totally right. Jackson wanted to hide Mark away from the prying eyes that were bound to follow him, but they had to attend dinner. Jinyoung enforced it.

They walked to the dining room together. Jackson stood in the middle, engaging Jinyoung with playful conversation while his index finger linked with Mark’s under their sleeves. 

“Wow, this is like a honeymoon getaway,” Bambam announced when he saw Mark and Jackson enter their private room. 

Jinyoung slid the screen door shut behind them.

“Seriously,” Jaebum began in his leader tone, “can you two control yourselves a little? How many people have to see you in the act? Only Youngjae’s eyes have been spared.”

“And I got the worst of it!” Yugyeom wailed.

“Let’s just keep it that way,” Mark said quickly, sitting down in an empty seat beside Jinyoung. Due to the arrangement of the table, Jackson was forced away from him to sit on the opposite side with Bambam.

Youngjae nodded eagerly from where he sat beside Jaebum.

“How come we have so much alcohol already?” Jackson asked, spying the bottles lined up in the center of the table. 

“I thought it’d be a good way to relax,” Jaebum said, pouring himself a glass. “Mark-hyung, you want some?”

“He shouldn’t,” Jackson interjected before Mark could even open his mouth. 

Bambam’s eyes widened, flying between the two. “You mean, like, Mark has that,” he pointedly looked straight at Mark’s crotch with raised eyebrows, “kinda problem with alcohol?”

“I do _not_ get whiskey dick,” Mark hissed, kicking Bambam under the low table. He quickly folded his legs on his pillow seat before Bambam could retaliate.

“Jackson then?” Jaebum asked, clearly trying to avoid that conversation.

“Jackson needs it,” Mark muttered in English. Jinyoung shot him a confused look, but Mark shook his head, unwilling to explain.

 

The night progressed as expected: lively and loud. The three youngest of the group started off the night by badgering Mark and Jackson about their sex life since “the majority of them had seen it in action anyway,” Bambam’s words. 

“Who tops? I bet it’s Jackson,” Bambam practically bounced off his seat.

“No way. Have you not seen how manly Mark looks when he drives? He could totally take charge,” Youngjae countered, jolting Jaebum out of whatever idle thought he had been pondering. Everyone shot Youngjae a scandalized look, surprised by his words.

“Well, from what I saw, it was definitely Jackson,” Yugyeom shuddered as if traumatized. Yet, the two maknaes still high-fived about it since Bambam had guessed correctly and Yugyeom was a supportive friend.

“A power bottom then?” Jinyoung asked slyly from the side.

Mark glared at him. “Not you too.”

The trio quickly resumed business, unfazed.

“So you went all the way?”

“Hyung, did it hurt?”

“Is Jackson-hyung’s dick as big as he claims it is?”

“What about Mark? He’s so skinny though.”

“But dicks aren’t, like, made of fat.”

“True. Does hyung have a monster dick?”

“Ooh, does Mark-hyung make a lot of noise?”

Eventually, the maknaes grew impatient of Mark’s reticence and the silence the elder imposed on Jackson, going so far as to slap a hand over the latter’s mouth when he wanted to laud Mark’s size. Subdued by the hyungs’ authority, they swiftly moved on to bigger and better things, leaving a flustered Mark and a cackling Jinyoung behind. Mark seriously needed a drink at that point.

After the sex briefing, Youngjae had opened the door, complaining that it was too hot inside the cramped room with seven guys. Mark, the only sober one, was glad the other guests at the inn weren’t too bothered by their behavior. Some of the older men joined in with the drinking festivities, chugging along with Jaebum. The older women were enamored with Jinyoung’s learned tongue and Jackson’s eager-to-please demeanor. 

Through strength of will, Mark had gotten over the easy jealousy that conquered his inhibitions whenever he saw Jackson wrap an arm around Jinyoung or laugh along with Bambam. He told himself that he didn’t even mind when Jackson tried to sit with everyone at the table except him. 

Mark rested in the corner of the small room with his cup of tea. He vaguely wondered if he should just down a beer in order to trick his mind into feeling a little less lonely. When he tried to reach for a one, however, Jackson was instantly there to grab it out of his hands and take a swig of it himself, claiming that now the bottle had his germs on it so Mark couldn’t drink it. Jackson’s logic was truly infallible; Mark squinted at him as he counted in his head how many times they had swapped spit, but whatever. Their fleeting moment together soon passed, and Jackson was off leaping into Jaebum’s lap.

The owner came over then, lugging an ancient machine covered in dust, announcing that he had found his old karaoke set. As he passed out the available microphones to the rest of the guys, Mark used the distraction to excuse himself. He didn’t know old Korean folk songs anyway. So he fled to the small balcony he spied on the way there. It was around a corner and out of sight, but Mark was immediately taken with the view he saw as he passed earlier that evening.

Now that it was pitch black outside, Mark could only make out the tops of the trees nearest him. He leaned against the railing hanging over a ravine. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he filled in the shape of the jagged mountains and the shine of a distant lake from his flashbulb memory. 

Completely lost in thought, Mark didn’t notice someone approaching until he felt a strong arm wrap around his waist and tug him away from his precarious position. 

“It’s dangerous,” a deep voice rumbled directly into his ear.

The scent of familiar cologne fogged by obtrusive alcohol wafted into his nose. He closed his eyes as he leaned back, resting his head against the intruder of his peace. He felt a warm breath tickle his neck.

“I thought you were going to sing with the others?”

“You don’t want to?” Jackson deflected.

“I can’t sing.”

“You can too. Everyone can.”

“I can’t sing _well_ ,” Mark amended. “So what are you doing out here? You love crowds.”

“I like you more.” Jackson wiggled against Mark’s back, resting his head on Mark’s shoulder. Mark snorted but allowed Jackson to annihilate all concept of personal space. 

“You barely talked to me all night.”

“I know. I’m such a coward,” Jackson admitted, real remorse making his voice falter. “I was afraid I’d get excited if I got too close to you while in this robe. I watched you get dressed, and I _know_ you aren’t wearing anything under it. Just the thought was…”

Jackson was right. There was something sickly alluring about being totally nude underneath his robe. If Mark simply loosened the tie, he would be exposed for all to see. It would be too easy to just strip down in this hallway, open to the wilderness, and let Jackson take him over the railing. He was prepped from earlier. Their bodies were already so hot with sweat and drink. It would be so easy.

But Mark knew such fantasies were impossible with their fame. It would be the end if they were caught. So Mark relaxed docilely into Jackson’s arms, letting the younger hold him upright, hoping no one would pass by. Together, they gazed out into the darkness. 

“So what were you looking at?” Jackson whispered into Mark’s neck, and the elder shivered as if on command. Jackson embraced him flush against his body, seeming to pull him impossibly closer in spite of Mark’s moral borders. Still, Mark frowned, wondering if Jackson could really change the subject so easily.

“Nothing really. It’s too dark.”

“How about I make you see stars?”

Jackson’s hands delved into the folds of Mark’s robe, underneath the cloth tie. Mark gasped, as Jackson seemed to read his dirty thoughts. Jackson’s palms rested on his belly while his fingers threaded through the fine curls of his pubic hair. Mark stepped onto his tiptoes, wishing for Jackson to reach just a bit further down and fully touch him. 

“The lighting here makes it too hard to see outside,” Mark arched his back as Jackson’s fingers grazed the base of his quickly rousing cock. 

“Hyung-ie, why don’t we go out to the hot springs attached to our room? We’ll be able to see more clearly out there.”

 

“Hey, don’t stare,” Mark grouched, turning his back to Jackson’s obvious ogling. 

“But you’re practically putting on a show for me!” Jackson whined right back. 

“Am not! I need to be naked to wash up, don’t I?”

“And what a blessing that is,” Jackson said, looking up at the heavens to send a silent thank you. 

The group’s shared hot spring was empty save for them. Everyone else was still occupied in the dining room, tossing back drinks and singing so loudly that they could hear the shouts from outside. Well, that was mostly just Youngjae. 

It was surprisingly bright outside now that they were away from electrical bulbs. The clouds had cleared away from the full moon, allowing for fantastic visibility as the two utilized the small shower stall outside. 

“Are you coming in?” Mark asked over the spray of low-pressure water. 

“Yeah!” Jackson ran over, metaphorical tail wagging. He squeezed in behind Mark, wrapping him into another hug from behind. 

“Yah, there’s another showerhead, you idiot,” Mark chastised, pushing Jackson away when he felt the latter’s cock slap against his ass.

“I want to use yours,” Jackson mumbled into Mark’s wet skin.

“Fine,” Mark said, sidestepping out of Jackson’s grip to use the other faucet. He switched it on, uncaring of Jackson’s shocked expression as the water flattened his hair. 

Mark washed out the product on his skin and in his hair so that he would not contaminate the purity of the hot spring. Jackson eventually stopped pouting and did the same. Once done, Mark wrapped a towel around his hips, much to Jackson’s disappointment. The chill of the night air rushed Mark toward the waiting pool. 

Carefully, Mark stepped along the slippery rocks until he reached the shallow water. The smell of sulfur was less than pleasant, but the heat on his aching muscles felt amazing. Mark settled a little further in and sat down on the bottom where a rock outcropping provided the perfect backrest. Mark closed his eyes, feeling the water still around him. 

A splash woke Mark from his brief tranquility. He peeked at Jackson wading his way over to where Mark sat. Jackson plopped down beside him, sending a small wave surging at him. Mark sputtered as the salty water entered his mouth. 

“Jackson!”

“Sorry, sorry.”

When Jackson finally settled, the crickets resumed chirping. Mark stared at the reflection of the sky on the surface of the water. It was occasionally warped by Jackson’s restless shifting, sending ripples to disturb the dazzling spots of light. Mark finally had to put a hand on Jackson’s thigh to stop him. Jackson’s quadriceps tensed under his fingertips.

“What?”

“Why are you fidgeting so much?”

“Sorry, I’m um—shit, this is embarrassing. I’m kind of nervous being this close to you in the dark like this,” Jackson confessed.

Mark raised an eyebrow, skeptical from Jackson’s previous actions. “Nervous like palms sweating or like dick getting hard?”

“Hyung!” Jackson exclaimed, appalled. He was confronted by Mark’s no-bullshit face. 

“I don’t know if you just want me for my body.”

“No way! I mean, I love your body, but I don’t think I’d love it as much as I do now if I didn’t like the person who owned it. To answer your question, the first one. I think. I can’t actually tell if my palms are sweating. But also, I’m probably still a little hard from earlier in the hallway.”

Mark rolled his eyes, but he looked down to hide the heating of his cheeks. “What are you? A teenager?”

Jackson pouted, crossing his arms across his chest. “This is normal behavior when you’re with someone you like. How can you be so calm anyway?”

Mark gripped Jackson’s wrist, bringing the younger’s fingers to rest on his pulse point. With the intimacy of their position, the heated mist, and the starry sky, the mood was so romantic that Mark was bound to be affected.

“Feel.”

Jackson focused. His eyes widened as he felt the hammering thud under Mark’s skin that only quickened the longer he kept his fingers delicately on Mark’s neck.

“I’m not that calm,” Mark said with a bland chuckle.

Jackson brought his hand forward until his palm caressed the side of Mark’s neck, his fingers on his nape. He stared at Mark, pale skin shining porcelain under the moonlight. He held Mark’s gaze until his eyes dropped down to the latter’s lips. Perfect and pink, the bottom was held captive under Mark’s sharp teeth. 

Jackson leaned forward, eyes slipping shut. He was drawn uncontrollably. His upper lip caressed Mark’s before Mark released his bottom lip to touch Jackson’s. 

When they met, Mark jolted back like he had been shocked. “Wait, wait, wait,” he pressed his palms against Jackson’s chest. “We shouldn’t do this out in the open.”

“Who’s going to see us? We’re hidden behind this rock so no one coming out from the rooms will spot us. There’s a fence surrounding this place to protect from outsiders. No one will see.”

Mark nodded shyly, peeking up at Jackson through his wet bangs. Even so, the exposure sent a ripple of perverse excitement coursing through his blood. He nudged his head against Jackson’s until their lips made contact again. They met open-mouthed, eager to collide their tongues together. Mark could taste the seafood ramen Jackson had for dinner, but he could hardly detect any alcohol. How strange. Earlier, Jackson had smelled like he ransacked a bar. 

“I thought you drank,” Mark inquired, talking against Jackson’s lips when they both pulled away for a quick air break. He knocked his forehead against Jackson’s. Angling his body better, Mark brought a leg to rest over Jackson’s thighs. 

“I had the beer I stole from you.”

“But you smelled like…”

“Oh, Bambam knocked over a glass onto my pants. He was so trashed. I used that as an excuse to go find you.”

Mark giggled, high-pitched; he was excited that Jackson would leave the others for him. Jackson was so enamored by the sound that he crashed their lips together again. Mark gasped softly, startled as his back hit the rock behind him. Jackson pressed harder against him, but they both kept their hands above the belt. 

“You know I was watching you all night,” Jackson whispered in a near-growl; his voice was so low. “You looked so sexy sitting there in your thoughts with that flimsy robe hanging off your shoulders. I wanted to just rip that thing off, but you beat me to it.”

Mark was reminded of how hungrily Jackson had stared at him in their room, his daring hands in the hallway. Still… 

“I was quiet because I had no one to talk to,” Mark said pointedly.

“I was there.”

“You weren’t there.”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk to me because then the maknaes would just keep asking about what we did in the bedroom.”

Mark sighed. “We really should have been more discreet.”

“Well, since they already know…” Jackson trailed off, lips brushing Mark’s to ask for permission. 

Mark tipped forward. He carded his fingers through Jackson’s wet hair, loving the feel of Jackson’s hands on his waist. They stayed like that for a while, just kissing and feeling each other’s skin under the water. The hot spring was incredibly comfortable, increasing the heat in Mark’s chest. The steam swirled around them, creating a fantastical mist to shroud their intimacy. 

In the darkness, Mark felt brave.

“Jackson-ah, I like you a lot,” Mark whispered, hoping Jackson would be able to hear him. With their faces this close, it was practically impossible not to.

“I do too,” Jackson responded.

“No, like…I’ve never liked anyone this much before. It kind of scares me,” Mark confessed, biting his lip. 

Jackson withdrew a tad, maintaining enough distance so that they could make eye contact without their vision blurring at the proximity. 

“You have no reason to be scared,” Jackson pressed a gentle kiss to Mark’s parted lips, “because I feel the same.”

Mark sat back suddenly, rippling the water around them and breaking the tension of the moment. Neither had noticed how heavy the air had become until Mark popped their bubble with a sharp breath.

“What is it?” Jackson asked, confused. He still had his hand on the side of Mark’s waist.

“I may or may not be getting hard,” Mark admitted, tilting his head to the side. He had his bottom lip sucked into his mouth, staring up at Jackson with big doe eyes. 

“Do you…uh…want to stop?” Jackson ventured, clearly hoping for the opposite.

“Well, I was thinking more along the lines of moving things inside, but if you don’t want to…?”

“No, no, that’s a much better idea,” Jackson insisted so avidly that Mark giggled. “After you.”

Mark stood up, towel slipping undone from the weight of the water. It fell back down with a plop, but Jackson’s eyes were hardly on that insignificant piece of cloth. Mark was more than just a little hard. Even in the dim light Jackson could see the angry flush of his glans, the veins thick with blood. Jackson was hardly aware of his actions when he gravitated toward Mark, mouth popping open and swallowing around Mark’s cock. 

“Jackson!” Mark hissed, body folding as he gasped at the sudden pleasure. 

Jackson wasn’t even listening, bobbing his head up and down Mark’s length. His skin tasted a little strange from the bath water, but Jackson ignored that too. He was too intent on sucking him until the heady taste of his precum seeped out. Jackson smiled when he succeeded.

“Jackson,” Mark whimpered again. “Stop—ah! You’re going to make me cum.”

Jackson looked up. His eyes feasted on how Mark’s skin shined, showcasing his toned abdomen and the budding muscle. 

“Do you really want me to stop?” Jackson asked, removing himself from Mark’s cock. 

Mark shivered as a breeze blew up. He nodded, frowning as if he was afraid to upset Jackson. “I don’t want to get the water dirty.”

Jackson rose, collecting Mark into his arms. Mark yelped as he was lifted off his feet, hands going to cover his erection. Mark was always stunned by how easily Jackson could impromptu decide to carry him bridal style. Or maybe he just really did need to work out more, like Jinyoung said. 

“You have no reason to hide,” Jackson teased.

“It’s for my own peace of mind,” Mark grumbled, not removing his hands.

Jackson took a step forward. 

“Wait the towel,” Mark said, pointing behind them.

Jackson protested even as he bent back down to pick it up. Mark grabbed it out of his hands and wrung it out. He used the damp cloth to protect his virtue as Jackson carried him out of the water. He felt every bump of Jackson’s step, but the younger’s presence made the experience comfortable. 

“We should shower off the minerals. It’d be bad to let it dry on our skin,” Mark mentioned as they were nearing the showers.

“Can you really be thinking about that in this state?”

“The health of our skin is important.”

“Okay, okay.”

Jackson only set Mark down once they were inside the little cubicle. He turned on the water, hurriedly washing off his own body. Once done, he turned back to Mark and caught the latter staring.

“What now?”

“Nothing,” Mark huffed. He casually threw his towel over the low wall lining the showering space, letting himself go. He lifted his arms up, letting the muscle there bulge, as he washed out his hair under the shower. He felt the heat of Jackson’s body against his back before hands grabbed his hips and pulled him back against Jackson’s chest.

“Hyung~” Jackson tried. “What’s wrong?”

“I said nothing.”

Mark was internally reasoning the lack of an erection on Jackson’s part. Maybe the act of giving a blowjob was just unpleasant for him. Or Mark was actually too heavy and the strain on Jackson’s muscles made the blood flow elsewhere. From past experience, the latter reason was much more probable, but Mark was pouting. 

He turned toward where a bottle of shampoo sat on the wooden floor, Jackson’s soft cock managing to wedge between his ass cheeks. He deliberately bent over while keeping his knees locked, feeling as Jackson’s dick rubbed against his hole then his balls. Mark pumped a few squirts into his palm before standing back up. By that time he could feel Jackson’s hardening cock nudge against his undercarriage. 

“Mark,” Jackson’s voice was a low growl. “What are you trying to do?”

“I’m just trying to wake up the dead,” Mark replied simply, bringing his hands up to his hair. 

Jackson grabbed his wrist, tight. Mark let out an “ow!” as Jackson dug into his bone. Jackson stole the shampoo off his hands. Mark turned his head in surprise as Jackson used the stolen shampoo to lather up his own hair.

“I guess you need to get some more,” Jackson said nonchalantly. “Then I’ll show you what’s dead.”

Mark smirked. He bent down again, heeding command. However, this time, Jackson gripped his hips and rutted up against his backside. Mark stumbled, reaching a hand out to the wall in front of him to correct his balance. He could feel Jackson against the underside of his cock, the probing heat against his balls as Jackson pulled back. 

Mark didn’t let that stop him, however. He continued on his journey toward the shampoo bottle, getting more soap. Jackson thrust forward again, and Mark squeezed his legs shut around him. That seemed to give Jackson enough friction as Mark straightened up. He closed his eyes as Jackson fucked himself between his thighs, busying himself with scrubbing shampoo along his scalp. 

“If you cum once, will you be able to keep going?” Mark asked, breath knocking out of him a couple times when Jackson surged forward especially strong.

“I am known for my stamina.”

Mark responded by spinning around and pinning Jackson against the wall behind him. He dropped down to his knees, feeling the spray of water on the top of his head. Shampoo dripped into his eyes, so he closed them as he blindly reached forward for Jackson’s cock. 

When he found the organ, he leaned his head forward to wipe his eyes against his knuckles. He peered up at Jackson then, head against his thigh. Jackson was slightly breathless, staring down with an open mouth as Mark licked up his length.

“Mark…I thought you didn’t want to do this here.”

“We’re hidden by the wall here. Besides, if you let it out first, you’ll last longer later.”

“I already came once today,” Jackson whined.

Mark stared at him hard. “I really need you.” He wanted proof that Jackson wanted him just as badly.

That seemed to shut Jackson up.

 

Their escapades in the shower were short-lived, as Mark had expected. Mark whispered dirty things to Jackson while swallowing down his cock, fueling his imagination about the sex that he was going to receive. By the end, with Jackson’s cum resting on Mark’s taste buds, Jackson pulled them close and fingered around his rim. 

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Jackson praised. His thumb pulled at Mark’s bottom lip. “Open up for me, baby.”

Mark moaned around the pet name, and Jackson used the opportunity to swipe a dollop of his own cum straight from Mark’s mouth and employed it as a makeshift lube to stretch Mark open. 

“Jackson—shit!” Mark gasped when Jackson’s finger entered to the first knuckle. 

“Relax, Mark-ah,” Jackson said endearingly. Away from the others, Mark hardly cared if Jackson dropped the honorific for something more intimate. 

When Mark’s hole swallowed around Jackson’s second finger, the elder was then shoved against the low wall as Jackson attacked his mouth with a near-violent kiss. Jackson lifted his leg up to his hip, his fingers tearing Mark apart.

“Please, Jackson-ie,” Mark whimpered.

“Please what?” Jackson asked, wanting Mark to say it, to say exactly what he wanted from him.

“Take me inside. Do me on the bed.”

“Jump up,” Jackson ordered, and Mark leapt off his feet. He wrapped his legs around Jackson’s midline, arms linking behind his neck. It felt natural. Jackson caught him with one hand on his buttocks and, as promised, took him indoors.

Mark was gasping in Jackson’s arms, two fingers inside him still, and he was on fucking cloud nine. Jackson carried him like a koala back to their room. They left puddles in their wake on the sandy stones, but neither had the effort to care. 

Mark’s eyes rolled back as Jackson weakly brushed against his prostate for the nth time that evening. It had been teasing, Jackson would always approach the gland but just barely knock it. It was driving Mark crazy!

“Please just fuck me already,” Mark moaned into Jackson’s ear as they passed the doorway to their room. Jackson slammed the door shut with his free hand, taking the time to lock it in case one of the members decided to come crawling in drunk. 

“How do you want it?” Jackson asked, gently setting Mark down on the bed. The motion was gentler than the fiery surge of hormones in the shower stall. Mark was reminded of how soft Jackson’s kiss was in the hot spring, and his heart warmed at the memory.

“Like this,” Mark said, pushing himself up the bed to rest on the pillows. He dragged Jackson up with him so that they were facing each other. “I want to see you. I want to be able to remember everything this time.”

Water that hadn’t dried off in their short trek back to the rooms soaked into the sheets. Mark twisted his fingers into Jackson’s dripping hair, feeling the excess run off his skin. Looking up at Jackson, he suddenly became a little too aware of the closeness of their naked bodies. Embarrassed, Mark squeezed his legs together, but the action was blocked by Jackson’s torso hovering between them. 

“Aw~ are you being shy? You said that you wanted to see me so let me see you too. It’s only fair.”

Mark bit his lip, tempted by Jackson’s words. He let his legs fall to the bed, spreading them wide so that Jackson could see _everything_. He watched as Jackson’s eyes fell from his face to his pink nipples, dropping low along the lines of his torso, and finally landing on his straining erection. Mark was ashamed to admit how his cock _twitched_ at the sudden attention.

“Little Markie-pooh seems happy to see me,” Jackson noted. 

Mark’s ears heated. He covered his face with his arms. “Please don’t give my dick a nickname.”

Without warning, Jackson reached up to tickle just under Mark’s armpits. The elder immediately jerked his arms back down with a high-pitched squeal that surprised the both of them. After a brief pause, Jackson laughed.

“What was that for?” Mark asked with his eyebrows scrunched together. He wasn’t pouting though. Not at all.

“Don’t hide yourself, baby. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I have everything to be embarrassed about,” Mark complained. “Just _look_ at the position I’m in!”

“Oh trust me. I’m looking,” Jackson mumbled under his breath in Cantonese, hoping in the back of his mind that Mark would not understand him. 

In order to distract the elder, he bent down to place a passionate kiss on his lips. Mark reciprocated the measure, and soon they were just lazily kissing on the sheets that were quickly becoming swampy. Jackson rolled his hips down, soft dick against Mark’s hard one, and Mark quivered underneath him. He fitted his hands under Mark’s back, holding him close as they let their lips wander each other’s mouth.

“So tell me about it,” Mark said, eyes flickering up to Jackson’s in the eerie semi-darkness of the moonlit room. The fullness of the moon outside was startlingly bright, so much so that Mark could make out the colors of Jackson’s skin, the subtle pinks, yellows, and blues. “Tell me about our first night together. The night that I forgot.”

Jackson suddenly grinned, mind surely speeding ahead with racy images that Mark could only imagine. “Are you sure? You won’t get more embarrassed?”

“Well I won’t know if you don’t tell me.”

“I tried to last time, and you couldn’t take it.”

“Last time… You mean when you threw me onto the bed and straddled me?” Mark gasped.

“I wasn’t lying—until the end when I said that it was all fake.”

“Jackson-ie,” Mark whined. “You let me do all of that while drunk? I can’t believe you.”

“I thought we weren’t going to point fingers here.”

Mark huffed. “Fine, then show me what else happened. I was on top of you…and then?”

Jackson subtly licked his lips, but Mark caught the action like a hawk, subconsciously mimicking the movement with his own tongue. 

“Why don’t you try it?”

A smile flitted over Mark’s lips. Was Jackson planning something? Either way, he was excited. 

Using his leg muscles to clench around Jackson’s waist, Mark tackled Jackson down onto the bed so that he could roll on top. They nearly fell off the bed, but Jackson’s hands on Mark’s thighs saved them from the momentum. 

“You led me back to your bedroom,” Jackson began, stroking up and down the sensitive skin. “I was a wasted blubbering mess, but you were determined. There was a light in your eyes. I can see it now. When you pushed me back onto your bed, I swear my heart almost stopped.”

Mark giggled at Jackson’s dramatics.

“You got on top of me and kissed me. Just like that. No warning at all.”

“Mhm,” Mark hummed, palms running up and down Jackson’s bare chest. His thumbs rubbed into Jackson’s nipples, and the younger bucked up underneath him.

“Ah! Mark—!”

Mark bent down to press a questioning kiss to Jackson’s lips. “Like that?”

“No, it was more intense, sloppier, I think because we were both drunk as hell.”

So Mark followed through, grabbing the back of Jackson’s neck, as he lunged for Jackson’s mouth without reserve. It was almost animalistic how they collided, lips and tongue and teeth, all meeting in a frenzy. Mark could see the visible line of saliva that connected their mouths even when he pulled away. 

“Wet enough?” Mark smirked.

“Yeah, Christ,” Jackson panted, already out of breath. “Before wasn’t as good as that, but oh my god. Kiss me like that again and I don’t think I’ll make it past thirty-five.”

Mark slapped Jackson’s chest, flushing in a pleased grin. Even if he didn’t believe Jackson’s words, he could feel the man’s reaction against his ass. 

“Continue,” Mark instructed from his commanding position.

“Somehow our clothes ended up on the floor, and you were grinding me through our underwear. My god, you seemed like you knew exactly what you were doing. I thought…I thought you had prior experience, like _a lot_ of experience. I think I hurt you then and I’m sorry.”

_Do you always seduce men like this?_

The words echoed in Jackson’s voice. Mark bit his lip with a frown.

“Uh,” Jackson cleared his throat. He looked aside, unable to meet Mark’s eyes. “I started really getting into it then. Anyway, about the rest, should we just act it out?”

The affirmation barely left Mark’s lips before he felt his world tip. He was suddenly on his stomach, the ghost of Jackson’s grip bruising on his hips. Mark tried to sit up, but Jackson held him down with a hand flat on his back. Instead of helping Mark regain his dignity, Jackson yanked Mark’s hips up. 

Jackson stalled. “I didn’t do _exactly_ this, but with our previous um exploits, it’s really tempting. So just uh yeah.”

“What is—?” Mark turned his head back to face Jackson but was dumbstruck when he witnessed Jackson’s eyes slipping shut behind his rump. Mark let out a startled gasp when he felt a wet tongue swirl around his rim. 

“How is it?” Jackson asked, taking a break to slip two fingers right inside. 

“Nngh…good,” Mark responded incoherently, biting hard on his bottom lip. He barely even felt the pain as his sharp teeth tore his own skin; his mind was focused only on how Jackson miraculously managed to instantly find his prostate. Pulling his fingers out, Jackson shoved them back into the exact same spot. It was no longer the teasing flickers of pleasure from before; Jackson had decided to change his tactic from the casual outdoor teasing to an assault that broke Mark down until his limbs felt like pudding and he could barely bring air to his lungs. 

“Hyung-ie,” Jackson cooed, lapping at Mark’s stretched out rim. 

“Jackson-ah, please. Keep going. What happened next?”

Jackson’s voice lowered to a dangerous territory. “I prepared you really well then. Won’t you let me do that much again?”

Mark shivered, mind dropping to a hazardously low ‘fuck it’ level.

“Jackson, I want you to fucking _enter_ me before I cum,” Mark snarled between clenched teeth. His eyes, alit with aggression, were bogged down only with palpable arousal. This look jumpstarted Jackson’s attention back to his own cock that had fully hardened under the provocative ambience. 

Jackson snatched the lube from the nightstand where they had left it before heading off to dinner. He hastily poured it on his erection, most of it landing on the messy sheets. Jackson smeared the liquid over his skin, groaning low in his throat. The tube was neglected to the side. Maybe it fell off the bed. Jackson really did not care.

“Did you r-really… Is this how we did it the first time?” Mark asked, a broken quality to his voice. It was a little muffled since Mark was facing in the other direction.

“Yeah, why?”

“Can we do it differently this time?”

Jackson sat back, wordlessly giving Mark full freedom to move. He watched curiously as Mark flipped onto his back, hugging his knees to his chest, allowing Jackson to fully see the effect of his ministrations on him. He will never cease to be blown away.

“Mark, you are so unbelievably beautiful,” Jackson said in English, hoping that Mark would fully grasp the gravity of his words when spoken in his native language. It wasn’t that he doubted Mark’s knowledge of Korean—god, he had been speaking it for around seven years—but there was just something different about hearing words spoken in the tongue that you were raised to speak. Something sexy.

“What else is new?” Mark countered, bluffing to hide the tangible flush of his ears.

“And I think I love you,” Jackson built upon his statement.

Mark was struck with something he had read in a book years ago. There was a paragraph detailing the difference between loving someone and being in love. To love, it took one person alone. There were a thousand ways to do it, but it was just that: alone. Being _in_ love…that took two. It was something unbelievably precious.

“Then I guess we must be in love,” Mark murmured. The delicate words were suspended in the taut air between them, held up by the intensity of their gazes on each other. Neither dared to even blink, for fear of this moment crumbling between them.

Their love had been rushed and ripped apart and run over by countless tires, but it was resilient. It was born of desperate times in endless training and omnipresent scrutiny, tested by their own psyches in envy and in jealousy. Yet, in the end, there was the bond that had grown over the years. What began as a tentative friendship, developing into an unbreakable trust that one would always be there to catch the other, bloomed to include the feelings that pestered their hearts through cold mornings, lonely nights, and the afternoons in between.

Now that their dawn had arrived, Mark didn’t wish for anything else. 

But…they had a night to complete first. With a bang.

Mark blindly reached for Jackson’s cock, his eyes never leaving Jackson’s hold on them. He saw Jackson flinch when he made contact, and the corners of his own eyes crinkled in a smile. He guided Jackson forward until he felt the thickness of his glans make contact with his exploited ring of muscles. 

Taking a deep breath, he forgot to release it as Jackson thrust inside. Mark could only look at Jackson; his vision was filled with the man he loved. God, the words sounded perfect even in his thoughts. Although he had previously wanted to hold back the concept of love until after their urges were sated, there was no way he could dam the flood of surging emotions anymore.

Mark took Jackson in steadily for the second time that day, the third time in reality, and what felt like the first time all over again. His cock was thick, astonishingly so. But, surprisingly, it felt _good_. Mark had never realized that he could attain so much pleasure from the sensation of being stretched open and filled up, but now that he had felt it, he wondered if he could ever live without it again. 

“Are you okay?” Jackson asked, wiping away the water that beaded at Mark’s hairline. He couldn’t tell if it was sweat from exertion or water from their bath. The doubt concerned him.

Mark nodded, lip bitten. 

“Can I keep going?”

“You’re not even all the way in?” Mark exclaimed.

“Halfway,” Jackson responded sheepishly.

Mark threw his head back into the pillows, closing his eyes finally. How had he taken it all that afternoon? Oh yeah, it was basically shoved inside of him. But if he had done it once then…

Mark threw away all restraint. “Go ahead. Just do it.”

“And that first night you told me that I _wasn’t_ a monster down there.”

“Well I must have been out of my mind last time because I— _fuck_!” Mark gasped, eyes flying open to gaze blankly at the ceiling as Jackson bottomed out. The curse ended in a whimper when the head of Jackson’s cock pushed up against his prostate, sending a dull thrum of pulsing electricity through him. 

“Are you alright?” Jackson asked, leaning forward to stroke Mark’s hair back.

“I will _never_ make fun of your size again,” Mark winced. 

“Should I take it out?” Jackson asked in immediate concern, not even taking the compliment.

“No, just…” Mark met Jackson’s eyes. He saw the sheer, unadulterated lust in them that made the dark chocolate irises blur around the edges. It surely echoed his own arousal; that much he couldn’t deny. “Just come here.”

Mark brought Jackson’s face closer, lining up their features so that the tips of their noses bumped. They stared at each other for a beat before tilting in tandem and crushing their lips together. Jackson made excellent use of his tongue, leading the kiss while Mark focused on relaxing himself. It wasn’t long before Jackson was slowly pulling back then rocking his hips forward again. Mark moaned as Jackson pushed back in, vibrating against their lips.

Jackson reached between them to gather Mark’s neglected cock into his hand. He gave his softening member a few tugs, bringing it back to life. Mark reacted positively at that, wrapping his legs around Jackson to trap him inside. The elder even began pushing his hips up to meet Jackson on the down stroke. 

“Ah, hyung, the way you move is too much,” Jackson groaned. “I can’t control—.”

“Then let go,” Mark breathed. “Lose control.”

“I-I’ll hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Mark promised. “I’m ready.”

So Jackson let his restraints clatter to the ground. He pushed forward, deep and hard, and he felt Mark’s body arch up against him. He followed his desires, going at it almost desperately, hearing the slap of skin fill the otherwise quiet room. 

Mark was writhing under Jackson, hands grasping at Jackson’s shoulders just for something to hold onto. His fingertips brushed against the scabbing marks on Jackson’s back, the scratches that he realized he had made that night they were drunk together. If he had been less turned on, he would have been wallowing at his stupidity to get so damn jealous over something like that. Instead, he began making new marks that he was bound to remember. 

Jackson chuckled suddenly. “I’d say it was about now that you left those scratches down my back our previous time. I didn’t even notice until I showered the next day.”

Mark grinned, digging his fingernails in as foretold until Jackson winced down a groan. 

The corner of Jackson’s mouth lifted into a bitter smile. “And I was so careful not to leave any marks on you.”

“Then do it. Repay me.” Mark bit his lips in anticipation while daring Jackson with his eyes.

“A-are you sure?” Jackson’s bravado shattered. “People will see.”

“I remember—ahhn—looking in the bathroom mirror th-the next morning thinking…thinking that nothing had happened because nothing suspicious was on my body,” Mark explained, half panting. “So this’ll be like a memento of tonight.” 

Jackson’s pace stuttered as he contemplated.

“Do it here,” Mark pointed to the space under his clavicle near his shoulder, turning his neck to give Jackson room. Even if he wore a tank top or a low cut shirt, the sleeves would cover it. “No one will see.”

Mark’s shy exposure did something to Jackson. It was innocent yet so, so dirty, and Jackson desired to claim it. Jackson leaned down to suck at the given skin. It took a few tries to turn the pink bites into an angry red blotch that would inevitably turn into a bruise, but Jackson persisted, eager to mark up Mark’s pretty pale skin. It also certainly helped that every time Jackson sucked particularly hard or his teeth sunk into flesh, Mark would tense up around his cock. 

This spurred Jackson’s fervor, thrusting in deeper as his mouth was busy on Mark’s skin. He _felt_ it when he managed to snag Mark’s prostate on the way out, and he glanced up in time to see Mark throw his head back in ecstasy. Jackson’s mouth meandered up to Mark’s neck, kissing and sucking but careful not to go too hard.

“Ah-hh, Jack-son,” Mark moaned, voice rocked by Jackson’s roughness.

Mark was in such a haze, where the slight pain was neglected in favor of the overwhelming pleasure. Nothing had tended to his cock except the rub of their abdomens when they brushed especially close, and yet he was about ready to cum. He held on tight to Jackson’s hair, mumbling something of a warning that couldn’t keep up with his tongue. Jackson got the message, though, angling himself to target Mark’s prostate. Mark curled up into him, crying and mewling, and Jackson kissed him through it.

The sound Mark let out wasn’t even intelligible, something of a mix of a choked whimper and a sudden squeal, and then he was spilling between them. Mark’s whole body shuddered as Jackson held his hands against the bed, mind tumbling after the prolonged pleasure. There was something empowering about it all, that Jackson had elicited an orgasm out of the man of his dreams, hands free. He stopped moving just to stare as Mark’s chest rose and fell heavily, body occasionally twitching in response to the pulse of Jackson’s cock still inside of him. 

“Keep going,” Mark panted weakly when he came back to himself. He slipped his wrists out of Jackson’s hold and pressed his palm on Jackson’s chest, over his heart. It was unintentional, but Jackson felt the involuntary tenderness. “Finish inside me.”

Jackson didn’t have to be told twice. He held up Mark’s legs, spreading him open wider, as he shoved in deep. He rammed into Mark, now given the chance to chase after his own pleasure. Tipping forward, he pressed wet kisses against Mark’s lips, but Mark was still too dazed to reciprocate, merely panting into their shared heat. Every thrust left Mark shaking, and Jackson could feel the trembling of his clenching muscles around him like a pulsing beat around his cock. 

“Jackson-ahh, baby _please_ ,” Mark practically begged, wisps of tears in his eyes. “Cum in-inside of me. I’m yours, r-right? Claim… _nngh_ …me.”

Jackson was getting drunk off the sound of Mark’s quaking voice under the force of his thrusts, off the dirty words pouring out without a cork. It played with his head, the sight of such a beautiful and modest man spilling such filth. 

He shoved in and stilled, shuddering as he felt the orgasm ripple through him. Mark held onto him while moaning audibly, and it was music to his ears. The first spurt shot out deep into Mark. Jackson pulled back to thrust back in, and he felt the viscosity of his own semen smooth the friction. He finished like that, relishing the feeling of filling Mark up with his seed, his own cum sliding along his length.

Jackson panted hard, rolling his hips until they gave out. They lay there for a while to catch their breaths, Jackson collapsed atop of Mark, _inside_ of Mark. Intermittently, Jackson’s cock would twitch weakly and press against Mark’s wired nerves, making the elder whine. It was so intriguing to watch Mark’s body react, but he wasn’t sure if his body could handle another round so soon.

Eventually Jackson felt bad for crushing Mark under his weight, so he rolled them over. He let Mark snuggle on top of him, arms around his torso, while Jackson softened inside of him. He didn’t even mind that Mark’s cum had smudged from the elder’s stomach onto his own.

“I um should probably take it out now,” Jackson suggested, gently prodding Mark’s head where it lay on his shoulder. When he didn’t respond, Jackson rubbed down Mark’s back, ending at his round ass. He gave the two globes a squeeze, causing Mark to tighten up in surprise. “Mark-ah,” Jackson called sweetly while he gave his ass a little massage. 

“Mm, don’t wanna,” Mark moaned as if spoiled, with his cheek stuck to Jackson’s shoulder. He rutted against Jackson’s pelvis, backing up to feel more of Jackson’s hands on him. 

“I thought you were supposed to be the older one.”

Mark lifted his head then, propping his arms across Jackson’s chest. “Jackson-ie, you just came inside of me. I really don’t want to be talking about age hierarchy right now.”

“Fine, fine,” Jackson laughed. 

Mark grumbled as he laid his head back down, but he sounded happy. “Besides, I like feeling you in here.” Mark reached a hand around to feel where they were connected. His stretched rim was becoming sore now that the endorphins were wearing out. His fingers wandered down and chanced the wrinkled skin of Jackson’s balls. _He really is all the way in_ , Mark thought as he fondled his balls with more conviction.

“Hyung, you’re going to make me hard again,” Jackson groaned.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Mark peered down at Jackson with an innocent smile on his face. 

That was all it took for Jackson. He supported Mark’s ass while he rolled his hips up lethargically into his wet heat. He got harder as he moved, and soon his cock engorged enough to target Mark’s prostate with enough force to make his legs shake. However, Mark didn’t like just sitting back for the ride. 

Mark shoved off Jackson’s hold and sat up. He watched Jackson lying complacently under him while he began working his thighs on top. Jackson’s hands were still cupping Mark’s ass, helping him up and dropping him back down. The sound was obscene, wetter than before; each slap of skin against skin resonated in the quiet room filled with only their moans. 

Mark clawed weakly at Jackson’s abdomen, raking into his skin for some type of purchase while his control slipped from his grasp. When Jackson hit his prostate head on, Mark finally couldn’t take the strain on his quivering muscles. He lay on Jackson’s chest, softly begging him to fuck him hard.

Jackson jerked his hips up, as passionately as he danced. There was a focus in his eyes that made heat pool in Mark’s belly. They began rocking in sync, colliding in the middle. Jackson felt himself nearing too fast, so he wrapped a hand around Mark’s cock. He stroked up and down the length to warm up before using his cheat move. 

It was something he discovered when Mark was drunk that night together. Where the head of Jackson’s head was much too sensitive to elicit an orgasm, Mark’s was like a trigger. Jackson rubbed his thumb along the underside of his glans, and Mark jolted particularly hard. He rolled his digit around and around until he reached the slit, and he pressed in. Keeping his thrusts steady, it wasn’t long before Mark spurted a nearly clear fluid all over his hands with a loud cry. It dripped all over Jackson’s stomach and rolled onto the bed. Mark was almost crying on top of him from the ecstasy. Needless to say, Jackson was quick to follow.

 

Mark watched the lonesome quality of the early morning light filter past the horizon in the warm embrace of Jackson’s arms. After engaging in a couple more rounds, Mark was beyond sore, but, strangely enough, he didn’t want to sleep quite yet. Since they had already surpassed the twilight hours, he convinced Jackson to join him outside to watch the sunrise together. 

“You remember that time?” Mark pressed back against Jackson’s chest. The layers of clothing between them felt foreign.

“What time?” Jackson asked. His voice rumbled deep in his chest, echoing the words off of Mark’s spine. 

“Back before we debuted, when we went to go get ice cream for the last time as trainees.”

“You mean when you said I was vanilla?” Jackson exclaimed, suddenly recalling. 

Mark winced, the words too loud in his ear. “You still remember something like that?”

“Of course, I was wholly offended,” Jackson claimed resolutely, puffing his chest. Then he processed. “So…what do you of me think now?”

“You haven’t done much to prove me wrong,” Mark said, tauntingly. 

Jackson reached around for the rope stringing Mark’s robe shut. His fingers threatened to untie the knot. His words reverberated hot against Mark’s skin. “Do you want me to? Right here, where anyone can walk out and see us, do you want me to strip you naked?”

Mark gripped Jackson’s wrists to halt him. “I’m not going to be able to walk later today if we go again.”

“I’ll carry you anywhere you want to go.”

“It’ll look strange.”

Jackson huffed. “Fine. So, what brought it up—the ice cream shop?”

“I just thought about it recently. I um… I was really hoping you’d kiss me then.” Mark’s grasp on Jackson softened; his fingers reached forward, molding around his knuckles and subsequently holding his hands.

“Then why didn’t you?” Jackson rested his chin on Mark’s shoulder.

“We were in public? Who knows what people would’ve said.”

“We were alone.”

“There was the girl working there.”

Jackson paused then his chest fell in exhale; Mark fell with him. “I would’ve let you, you know.”

Mark raised his eyebrow. “Because you thought I was pretty? I’m sure most of the guys were so pent up they wouldn’t have minded.”

“Then would you mind if one of those guys tried to kiss you instead?” Jackson asked, arms unconsciously winding tighter around Mark’s waist.

“Yeah, I’d mind. I’m not attracted to them.”

“Well, same goes. Because I was maybe interested in you.”

Mark scoffed. “I’ve liked you for so long, and all I get is a ‘maybe’.”

“Okay, but that was then. Now I definitely like you. It was a stressful time for me back then: missing home, training all the time, worrying about if we’d actually make it in the big cruel world. I didn’t know if it was that or like…my heart. Even you said it before. I was confused as hell too.”

“Mm,” Mark responded, understanding. 

Looking out at the clear sky, he remembered when he had last been awake with Jackson in this early morning haze, witnessing this same gray light passing through the curtains at the dorm; he was confused and panicked. Even with Jackson naked across the bed from him, he was alone, without his memories. This time, he had warmth at his back, a body to keep him steady, and a heart to protect him from that solitude. Instead of the insecurity of before, he felt safe watching the sun break past the horizon, splitting the sky into orange rays.

“What I wanted to tell you before, when you wanted to wait for a better time… I want to tell you now. You mean so much to me,” Jackson breathed out like he had been punched, the air sucked straight out of his lungs. “I don’t know what I’d do without you anymore. Instead of worrying about me leaving, you should be afraid of me coddling you too much.”

“Ah, maybe,” Mark considered. “You are rather needy—.”

“Hyung!” Jackson whined, curling up tighter around Mark’s thin body. He really never wanted to let him go.

“You mean a lot to me too,” Mark answered Jackson’s confession, rubbing up and down the younger’s arms to soothe his worry.

Jackson sighed, happy to hear the words straight from Mark’s mouth. He bent down, face buried into Mark’s hair. “This is more than just a dream, right?”

Mark turned around, nosing at Jackson so that he could bring his head up for a kiss. Jackson chuckled at the cute puppy dog act while Mark melded their lips together, a little parched from overuse perhaps but otherwise soft. Mark sighed, contented, but Jackson jolted at what he said next. 

“This is better than a dream,” Mark murmured, echoing his long forgotten words. “I won’t be able to forget this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End!


End file.
